


The Promise

by Janina



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Death, Except for Ned, F/M, Grief, Grieving Jon, Grieving Sansa, Loss, Podrick is Dead, Slow Burn, Smut, Stark Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-08 05:46:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 61,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8832760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa and Podrick were happily married with two kids until an accident took him away. Jon Snow was Pod's best friend and made a promise to Pod that he would take care of Sansa - even marry her - in the event of Pod's death. Jon's not prepared for marriage, but he is prepared to do what he can for Sansa and her kids.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the book The Sweetheart Deal by Polly Dugan.

Sansa Payne stood outside in her backyard, staring at the playset her husband had spontaneously bought for their kids one afternoon. It was drizzling, the air was cool on her skin, but she didn't really feel it. Podrick, her husband, had said that she was one of those rare females that wasn't always cold. He'd said it like it was a compliment, and Sansa had taken it as such. 

The playset had been purchased on a "quick trip" to Home Depot when Pod was supposed to be buying tools to fix the sink in the bathroom. He had gotten the tools too, but he'd strayed from his task that day, no doubt at the persistence of their seven-year-old daughter Lyanna, and their five-year-old son Ned.

He'd looked at her sheepishly when they'd returned home, his brown eyes soft and apologetic. He'd no sooner told her what he'd done and asked if it was all right, than the truck delivering said playset was pulling in behind him. So much for asking. 

Not that Sansa had minded the playset. It kept the kids busy while she tried new recipes out for her bakery, plus it was fun to watch them play together. Lyanna and Ned certainly didn't fight the way Sansa and her younger sister had. 

Staring at the playset now, Sansa could see Pod pushing Lyanna and Ned on the swings, laughing uproariously at whatever silly thing the kids had said to him. 

"Sansa."

Sansa looked over her shoulder and found her mother, Catelyn, coming down the steps of the porch. She was dressed in a simple black dress, the same dress she wore when she'd buried her husband and Sansa's father, Ned. Sansa wasn't sure how her mother could have held onto that dress since she was pretty certain that she was going to burn hers after today. 

"Sansa, honey, have you eaten anything?" Catelyn asked.

Sansa couldn't remember if she had. "I don't know."

"That's a no then," Catelyn said and wrapped an arm about Sansa's shoulders. "Come in and eat something. People are asking about you."

"Are they asking why that nut is standing outside in the rain?"

"No. No one is here to judge you, Sansa."

Would that were true. But she knew everyone was watching her like a hawk, wondering how the widow was doing, and how she would manage two kids and a bakery without the support of her husband. 

Sansa didn't know either and was open for suggestions. 

Catelyn led her through her house where people milled about - standing, sitting, talking, eating, some laughed, some wept silently. Sansa barely saw any of them. They were just a blur of color and white noise. Her stomach growled, but she knew as soon as she put anything in her mouth it would taste like sawdust. Everything did since Pod had gone. 

"Where are my kids?" Sansa asked her mother once they reached the kitchen. She stood at the counter while Catelyn grabbed a paper plate and began scooping this and that onto it from the assorted trays, plates, and casserole dishes on the table. 

"They fell asleep watching a movie in the den. Jon brought them upstairs and put them to bed."

Sansa nodded. Jon Snow, Pod's best friend from college, was a help. He'd flew in from Portland just two days after Sansa had called him to tell him that Pod had been killed - struck by a drunk driver while jogging. He'd been staying in the guest room because he was like family to them. Had been the brother Pod had never had. He helped her with funeral arrangements and the kids and Sansa wasn't sure what she was going to do when he left. She wasn't even sure when he planning to go. She imagined soon though. He did have a life teaching creative writing and penning his own not-really-read novels. He probably even had a girlfriend. Sansa hadn't asked because it hadn't even dawned on her to ask. Her husband was dead and she had two kids to get through this, that was all her brain could manage. 

For the next hour, Sansa drifted from room to room, talking to the blurs and hearing more white noise. It was all the same. The sympathetic looks, the tears, the words of support and love. They all blended together in just another amalgam of words that meant nothing to her. 

She carried the plate of food from room to room, nibbling here and there before she finally decided to just put it down and leave it. When she drifted back into the kitchen, she found her brother Robb standing in a suit at the kitchen counter talking with her neighbor and friend, Jeyne Westerling. When he saw her, he stopped talking and just opened his arms to her. 

That was enough to make Sansa lose it for the first time that day. She and Robb had always had a special bond. She supposed because they were only a couple years apart before their mother started spitting kids out year after year as though she was afraid time was running out.

Robb wrapped her up in his warm embrace and just held her as she sobbed into his suit coat. He'd have to get it cleaned, but she was certain he didn't care. He just stroked her back and rested his cheek against the top of her head while she let it all out. 

Sansa didn't even notice that Jeyne had left the room until she'd pulled away to blow her nose in a wad of paper towels that Robb had grabbed. 

"You know I'm right down the street if you need anything, right?" he said. 

"I know," she said, nodding. "And you're not down the street. You're two blocks away."

"Same difference."

"Not really."

Their mother came in the kitchen then, followed by their Aunt Lysa. Lysa was ready to go. _Thank God_ , Sansa thought. _Now people can get the fuck out of my house and give me some peace._

However, this just meant having to say goodbye to everyone. More sympathy. More tears. More hugs. More offers of help. Sansa felt like a bobble head afterwards and her throat was drying from all the "Thank yous" and "I knows" and all the other crap she had to spew to people trying to make them feel as though their words were of a real comfort to her. 

Her head was pounding by the time everyone but her mother, siblings, and Jon had left. Jon could have left though for all she knew. She hadn't seen him since she'd slipped outside to stare at the playset. 

Well, she figured, he was a big boy and he knew her house by now. He could figure things out. 

xxxxx

Jon Snow stopped short in the hallway when he saw all the Starks had converged in the kitchen. No one could dispute these people were related. Sansa, Robb, and Rickon favored Catelyn with their auburn hair, blue eyes, and sharp features. He figured Arya and Bran favored their father with their brown hair and grey eyes - unless there was a mailman in the mix, but Jon didn't think pious Catelyn Stark would do any such thing. However, they all looked alike in some way. No one could look at them all and not know they were family. 

At the moment, Sansa's little sister Arya was dumping plates of food into the trash that her little brother Bran handed her. Rickon, the youngest of all the Starks, was munching on brownies and watching them. Catelyn Stark was wrapping things up and putting them in the casserole filled fridge (people made an awful lot of casseroles when someone died), while Robb was loading the dishwasher. Sansa stood off to the side in front of the side door with a glass of wine in her hand looking utterly lost. 

God, he ached for her. 

Her gaze shifted to him as though she'd felt him watching her and she forced a smile. "Jon," she called out to him. "There you are. Have you been hiding?"

"Little bit," he said as he cautiously ambled into the kitchen, hands stuffed into his dress pants. "Lots of people here today."

Catelyn looked at him funny and Sansa saw the look and said to her mother, "Jon's a writer. Likes to keep to himself. Introverted and all that."

"How long will you be staying, Jon?" Catelyn asked as she slipped an empty dish into the sink for Robb to rinse off, which he did. 

Jon darted a glance at Sansa, wanting this to be a discussion he had with her while wondering if Catelyn wanted him to go. He couldn't think of any reason why she would, except for maybe the fact that a widow shacking up with her deceased husband's best friend and kids might not look look right to others. Jon wasn't one for keeping up appearances, but he didn't want to cause any trouble for Sansa. 

It was possible he was overthinking. He was prone to do that. 

Especially when he thought about the stupid contract Pod had made him sign one drunken night. He'd been out for a visit one summer and Sansa had gone to bed early from too much wine and so Pod and Jon had sat outside together. Jon kept the fire pit they'd started going, and Pod had started to lecture Jon about finding a nice girl and settling down. Then he'd gotten this gleam in his eye that had unnerved Jon. He'd dashed into the house and came out with a piece of paper, a book to write on, and a pen. He wrote, hunched over, straining to see in the dark despite the light of the fire. And then he'd handed Jon the piece of paper and said, "Sign it."

In Pod's attempt at legalese, he'd written out that in the event of his death, he wanted Jon to take care of Sansa and the kids. At the time, Ned had just turned one. 

_"You're crazy," Jon said and laughed, shoving the piece of paper at his friend. "I'm not signing that."_

_"Why not? Do you not care what happens to my wife and kids should I die?"_

_Jon glared at him. "That's not fair. You know that I do. But I don't need a fucking piece of paper to watch out for them."_

_"No, Jon, I'm not asking you to 'watch out' for them. You can do that, in a sense, from Portland. I'm asking you to take care of them. I want you to come out here and help her. She's going to need it. She's got her own business and now with two kids...I know she can ask her family, but Arya will give her a hard time, Bran and Rickon are young still and won't want to be bogged down helping her, Robb has his own life and can be a bit unreliable, and Catelyn will take over completely. God love the Starks, but I want someone Sansa can trust, that she feels comfortable with, and won't have to put up with family shit to get some help."_

_"Pod," Jon said in all seriousness, "Is there something you're not telling me? Not telling Sansa? Are you sick or something?"_

_Pod laughed, throwing his head back as he did. "No, I'm not sick. I just want to know that my kids and my wife will be taken care of. I want to know that Sansa won't be preyed upon by some dick looking for an easy lay after I'm gone."_

_"You don't think her older brother would have something to say about that?"_

_"If he has the time to check on her."_

_"You don't think her family will want to check on her in the event you die?"_

_Pod sighed then, looking greatly put out by him. "Jon. Please. Just promise me. Promise me you will take care of her and the kids. You know I would do the same for you."_

_Jon had laughed. "In the event I had a wife, you mean?"_

_"Yes. In the event you had a wife."_

_"When you say take care of her...exactly what do you mean by that?"_

_"I want you to marry her, man."_

_Jon gaped at him. "Sansa wouldn't go for that."_

_Pod smirked. "Are you saying you would?"_

_"No! No, I'm not saying that at all, but I am saying if she knew about this she'd rip our balls off."_

_"She doesn't have to know. Not now anyway."_

_"Pod..."_

_"I don't ask you for much do I?" Pod asked. He was serious. Solemn. Almost stern._

_Jon shook his head, just as solemn. "No."_

_"Sign it."_

Rarely did Pod ever get so passionate about things, so Jon had felt he had to sign that crap piece of paper. Just to make Pod happy, just to ease his mind. 

And now...well, now Jon found himself in the very awkward position of feeling he had to keep his promise. How could he bail on Sansa and the kids? How could he just take off on them when Pod had left crap for him to do as though he knew, he _fucking knew_ , Jon might just decide to bail after all. 

Months before he'd been killed, Pod had started an extension on the house. He wanted to expand the den and make it into a family/rec room for the family. He'd started work on it, but it wasn't even half finished. Jon knew a few things about construction, but he knew he was going to have to call in some help on this. And he didn't want Sansa to get screwed with a shoddy job by some jackass looking for easy money from a widow, so he had to make sure that didn't happen. As a help to her and to his best friend, he planned to pay for it too. 

Sansa didn't know that part yet, and he was pretty certain she wouldn't go for it if she did. 

So, yeah, he had to stay. He'd made a promise and Jon Snow kept his promises. 

"I'm not sure, Mrs. Stark," Jon said politely. 

"Mrs. Stark!" Robb laughed. 

Sansa put her wine glass down on the counter. "I'm just going to check on the kids. Jon, do you want to join me?"

Jon nodded. He did not want to be left alone with her family. 

He fell into step beside Sansa and looked her over. She was standing upright, but she looked like hell. "How do you feel?"

"Like shit," she said with a little laugh. "You?"

He sighed. "That's a loaded question."

"Tell me about it. I hope you didn't get stuck with kid duty too much. I'm sorry I just wandered off."

"It was no problem. I think the day wore them out. I sat with them in the den, made sure they ate something and put on a movie for them. They passed out pretty quickly after eating."

"I'd like to pass out," Sansa muttered. 

Once they'd turned the corner and were at the bottom of the stairs, Sansa faced Jon and said bluntly, "What are your plans? I don't want you to feel you have to stay, but I also don't want you to feel you have to go. You lost him too." Her eyes welled up in tears and when Jon reached for her she batted his hands away lightly. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I just want to know what your plans are. I figured you didn't want to discuss it in front of my family."

"You're right. I didn't."

"So?"

Jon sighed. "I'm staying." 

"For how long?"

"However long it takes for that room to be finished."

She pursed her lips together. "Jon, that's not your responsibility."

"It is. He was my best friend. You're my best friend's wife. I need to do this for him and for you. Please don't argue with me on this, Sansa."

He could tell she was about to do just that when Ned started screaming for her. Sansa bolted up the stairs with Jon at her heels.


	2. Chapter 2

Ned, sometimes lovingly referred to as Neddy, was sitting up in bed, tears streaming down his face, his dark hair matted to his forehead. Lyanna was already in the room, sitting with her brother, and informed Sansa and Jon when they entered the room that "Neddy had a nightmare."

Sansa sat down on the other side of the bed, and Jon slunk back to the doorway. This was a family moment, and he was not family. Sansa began speaking to Ned, but Jon couldn't hear what she said over the pounding of footsteps up the stairs. 

"What happened?" Catelyn asked, leading the parade of frantic Starks up the stairs. 

"Is Neddy okay?" Robb asked, bringing up the rear. Bran, Arya, and Rickon just stared at him. 

"He had a nightmare," Jon replied, his voice had a bit of a frog in it, and he cleared it. "Just a nightmare. Lyanna and Sansa are in there with him."

Catelyn nodded and glanced toward the door while the rest of the Starks except for Robb began heading back downstairs. Jon could tell that Catelyn was considering going in Ned's bedroom and helping. He wanted to tell her that perhaps she should let Sansa handle it when Robb spoke up, "Come on, Mom. Let's go back downstairs and finish cleaning up. San's got it."

Catelyn nodded and looked at Jon, her mouth turning down slightly. Jon shifted on his feet, feeling suddenly as though he was being accused of something. Then she strode away, Robb taking up the lead, and Jon glanced inside Ned's bedroom. 

Sansa had Ned in her arms and the two were crying together as Lyanna stroked her mother's long hair - as red and as long as her own. Lyanna looked sad, but she didn't weep. She hadn't wept earlier either, which concerned Jon a bit. She rather reminded him of a mini-Sansa, keeping it all inside and together because she thought she had to. He'd seen her shed a few tears, but she would quickly keep it contained just as she had done downstairs. 

Jon wanted to go inside and lend comfort to them, but he also knew that would be an intrusion. So, he shuffled away and headed down the stairs to see how he could lend a hand in cleaning up. 

The dishwasher was running by the time Jon returned to the kitchen. Robb was now washing some dishes by hand, and Catelyn was putting tea on. Bran and Rickon were missing, and Arya was sitting at the kitchen table on her phone. She looked up at Jon and eyed him warily for a minute before returning to the glow of her screen. 

"I want coffee," Robb declared as he set a plate in the strainer and shut off the water. 

"Then make it," Catelyn chirped. 

Robb grinned and then nodded toward Jon. "Everything okay up there?" he asked. 

Jon nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he hung back towards the hall. "I didn't go in, but yeah, Sansa is handling it. Where are Bran and Rickon?"

"They left," Arya said without looking up from her phone. 

"So, you're a writer, Jon?" Catelyn asked. 

"I am." He remembered having a brief conversation when Pod had introduced him to Catelyn at Sansa and Pod's wedding. He'd told her then that he was an English Professor and a writer, but apparently she had forgotten. Or he just wasn't that noteworthy until now when he was staying in the guest room. 

"What do you write?" Arya asked. 

"Books no one reads," Jon said with a nervous laugh. "Mostly academic stuff."

"Bo-ring," Arya muttered. 

"Pretty much," Jon said, and she looked properly chastened. Apparently, she hadn't meant for him to hear that. 

"Jon, you want coffee?" Robb asked. 

"Sure."

The sound of footsteps down the stairs had Jon turning and watching the progression of the Payne family. Lyanna was in front of them, head held high, blue eyes shining with determination, and her back was stiff. She was seven going on twenty, and the way she carried herself made Jon think she saw herself as some sort of protector over Sansa and Ned. Everything about her said, _I got this._

Ned held onto Sansa's hand over his shoulder as though he could not bear to be parted from his mother. He looked wrecked, as any boy who had just lost his father would be. His dark hair looked freshly brushed, no longer matted against his head. His eyes were still a bit wet, but and he'd sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. 

Lyanna looked up at Jon. "He's ok."

"Thank you, Lyanna."

"Hey, who's that skinny little twerp with the red hair?" Robb said with a smile. "Do I know her?"

"Uncle Robb, you already known it's me," Lyanna said with a roll of her eyes. It was obvious this was the go-to joke Robb liked to attempt to play on Lyanna, and she was having none of it. But from the way Robb laughed, it was apparent he wasn't going to stop playing the joke in the future. 

"You want some coffee, Lyanna?" Robb asked her. 

"I don't drink coffee," Lyanna replied. 

"Whiskey then?"

Lyanna just looked at him with her hands on her hips and her little pink bow-mouth pursed together. "No, Uncle Robb."

Robb pretended to mull this over while Sansa led Ned to the fridge. She opened it and started pulling things out to show him. Jon snapped into action and went to get a plate for them.

"How about a hug then?" Robb said. "I know I could use one."

Jon glanced over at Lyanna, who nodded and went over to her uncle. "Okay," she said, sounding as though she was doing him a favor. 

Robb just grinned and knelt on the floor, scooping Lyanna into his arms and squeezing her tight. "What can I really get you?" he asked her. 

Jon tuned them out and focused on Sansa and Ned. "Sansa," he said, holding up a plate. "I got a plate here for Ned. You want one, too?"

"Um, sure," she said. "Thank you." She turned, a casserole dish containing mac and cheese in her hands. "Can you grab the Shepherd's Pie?" she asked him. "Bottom shelf."

"Of course."

While Robb got Lyanna food (that's what she wanted), Sansa got Pod food, Jon got the kids milk to drink. When he glanced over at the table, he saw Catelyn and Arya watching him. He ignored them the best he could. 

Ten minutes later, the kids and Sansa were at the table with a plateful of food in front of them. Jon sipped coffee as did Robb and Arya, and Catelyn sipped tea. The kids ate, but Sansa picked at her food. She had been doing that all week, Jon noted. He wanted to say something, gently of course, but didn't feel he could with the other Starks there. 

"Well, I should get going," Robb said, leaning against the sink. "Arya, you want me to give you a ride home or wait for Mom?"

"I'll go with you," Arya said. She got up from the table, gave Ned and Lyanna pecks on the top of their heads, hugged her sister, waved to her Mom, glanced at Jon, and then headed to the door. Robb took a little bit longer with his goodbye's, making sure to hug Ned and Lyanna and his sister, and even going so far as to shake Jon's hand. 

A few minutes after they left, Catelyn stood up and brought her tea cup to the sink. "I should be going too, unless you want me to stay, honey?"

Sansa shook her head. "No, Mom, we'll be all right. Thank you though. I think we're just gonna watch a movie or something and relax." She looked to the kids. "What do you guys think?"

"Okay," Lyanna said around a mouthful of Shepherd's Pie. 

Ned nodded and shoveled mac and cheese in his mouth. 

Sansa got up and went over to her mother. Catelyn engulfed her in a motherly hug and Jon shifted in his chair when he saw Sansa's shoulders start to shake. She was crying. 

Lyanna watched them like a hawk, while Ned focused on eating. Jon, wanting to distract them, cleared his throat and said, "So, what are you guys in the mood to watch? We watched Frozen earlier."

Lyanna glanced at him, and then went back to watching her Mom and Catelyn. "I don't know," she said absently. "Mom can pick."

"I want to watch Lilo and Stitch."

That got Lyanna's attention. "Again?! Neddy, come on, pick something else. You just watched that last night."

"So? I want to watch it again," Ned said, an edge to his voice that Jon had not previously heard before. 

"Maybe we can pick a couple movies and flip a coin like we did the other day," Jon suggested. 

"Lilo and Stitch, Lilo and Stitch, Lilo and Stitch!" Ned shouted, his face going red. 

"Neddy!" Sansa exclaimed, wiping at her eyes as she pulled away from her mother. "What is going on?"

"Neddy wants to watch Lilo and Stitch again, Mom, but we already watched it last night," Lyanna complained. 

"Ned, honey, are you done?" Sansa asked as she came back to the table and knelt by Ned's chair. 

He nodded, tears in his eyes. 

"Sweetheart, why don't we go lay down for a little while, hmmm?" Sansa asked softly. 

Ned nodded tearfully and slipped from his chair. 

"I'll take Lyanna to the den," Catelyn said. "I'll just stay a while, okay?"

Sansa nodded. "Sure. Thanks, Mom."

Jon watched the four retreat and sat there, wondering if perhaps it was best he just leave after all. 

xxxxxxx

"Hey."

Jon looked up from the book he was reading in the kitchen, a cup of decaf coffee on the table before him. By now it was probably cold, but truthfully, Jon hadn't really been reading much either. Instead, he'd been thinking about Pod, Sansa, the kids, the Starks, and what it would mean to stay there with them. 

Sansa shuffled about the kitchen - grabbing a mug, fishing around in the pantry, coming away with a packet of hot chocolate - okay, so that's what she was doing. 

"Ned still sleeping?" Jon asked. 

"Yup. Like the dead." She winced, putting the now filled with water mug down on the counter and sighing. "Horrible choice of words."

Jon closed his book and slid it onto the table. He stood and walked over to her, picked up the mug, and put it in the microwave. "How long?" he asked softly. 

"Two and a half minutes."

Jon punched in the time and then leaned back against the stove. "Sansa, we should talk."

She sighed and nodded, facing him. "Yes, we should. You mentioned staying to finish the addition?"

"Yes."

"And we left off at me telling you that you didn't have to do that."

"Yes."

"Neddy's flip out didn't change your mind?" she asked with a slight snort. 

"It wasn't Ned who made me doubt my decision to stay, but your mother."

Sansa's brow furrowed and she tilted her head to the side. "My mother?"

Jon sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "She doesn't like me. I get it - to her I'm a stranger. I live in a different state, I was Pod's best friend - she doesn't know me. It's not like I'm around much. If I lived here while finishing that room, I know she's wondering how it would look to people. She'd wonder if I was, I don't know, trying to put the moves on you or something. Maybe think I'm sticking around for some money Pod left or whatever."

"He was a construction worker. We weren’t exactly rolling in dough."

"Just the same. She doesn't trust me."

Sansa grinned. "My Mom scared you, huh?"

Jon laughed softly. "A little bit. But she also made me think. I don't want to make anything harder on you than it already is."

The microwave beeped, signaling the hot chocolate was ready, and Jon got it out for her and placed it on the counter. He picked up the packet of hot chocolate and poured it in. Sansa got a spoon from the drawer and handed it to him. He stirred it and then put the spoon in the sink and went back to lean against the stove. 

Sansa leaned against the island, cupping the mug in her hands and sipping it. He could see the wheels turning in her head. Finally, she looked at him. "What does an English professor know about construction?"

"More than you might think. I learned a lot from my foster father, and from Pod. Whatever I don't know, I'll learn."

"Pod had a friend that came over from time to time to help him. Sandor Clegane. He can be a bit...gruff."

"Gruff doesn't bother me."

"You say that now."

"Are you saying I can stay?"

"But you're afraid of my mother."

Jon shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded. "I am, but after thinking about it some more, I just can't go, Sansa. You've got your hands full here with the kids and grief..." He shook his head. "Who knows, maybe I need some time to mourn him as well. I know that if the tables were turned, he'd do the same for me."

"Stay with your wife who doesn't exist and finish an extension on the house you don't have?"

Jon laughed again. "Yes."

"I don't want you paying for everything."

"We'll split the costs."

"Your job?"

He sighed. "That might be trickier. But I can take a leave of absence."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but it's not like there aren't any colleges here I could apply to.”

"Jon, you're talking about uprooting your entire life. Are you even dating someone right now?"

"I was. We broke up a while ago."

Sansa sighed. "I don't know, Jon."

"Listen, don't worry about me. I know in my gut that this is the right thing to do. Pod was like a brother to me and knowing how much he loved you and his kids, I have to stay and do what I can. He'd want me to look after you. He asked me to once, in fact."

"Oh?"

Jon nodded. He wasn't going to tell her about the stupid contract because it was stupid. The ramblings of a drunk man that just got a little too sentimental in the moment. "He wanted me to make sure you guys were all right." He smiled. "And that no dick came around looking for an easy lay."

Sansa barked out a laugh. "Yeah, that sounds like him."

"What do you say, Sansa? Will you let me stay and help?"

She heaved a sigh and looked around the kitchen as though it held the answers. "Well," she murmured, "God knows I'm going to need the help. And as much as I love my mother, she'll just take over everything. I don't want anyone taking over everything, I just need help getting going, you know? It's going to be an adjustment juggling work and the kids. Pod was great with helping pick up the slack..." Her voice trailed off, and Jon could see she was about to start crying. She shut her eyes tight and without even thinking about it, Jon went to her. He grabbed the mug from her hands and put it on the counter, and then proceeded to envelope her in a hug. 

"I was doing so well not crying," she said into his shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his waist. 

"It's not good to not cry, Sansa," he told her softly. "You lost your husband and the father to your children. You should cry. No one is going to think you're weak if you do. And if they do, then fuck them."

She laughed and pulled back to look at him. "Jon Snow, you said the f-word. Lyanna would make you put money in the swear jar if she heard you."

Jon smiled. "Have I mentioned that she scares me too?"

Sansa laughed again and Jon's smile grew. It made him feel good to make her laugh like that, and she needed it. They all needed it. 

"Don't worry, Jon. I'll protect you from my mother and my daughter."

"So I can stay?"

She sighed, looking uncertain still. In spite of that though, she said, "You can stay."


	3. Chapter 3

It took some doing. Okay, a lot of doing, but Jon managed to get everything in order regarding his apartment (he decided to sublet), and took and extended leave on his job in just under a month. 

"Why are you doing all this for a family that isn't yours?" Tormund Giantsbane, a colleague and friend asked him while he helped Jon load up his car with his belongings from his office. 

Jon didn't answer right away. He wanted to try and find the right words to express why he felt compelled to do this. He'd given it a lot of thought since he'd come to the decision that this was what he wanted to do, and every single time he went back to the contract. But it wasn't the contract at all that motivated this. It might have started that way, but it wasn't the full reason why. 

Slamming his trunk shut, Jon looked at his friend and said, "Have you ever felt you had to do something and you didn't know why exactly?"

"No," Tormund said, and then laughed. Jon did too. 

Jon shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. "Pod was like a brother to me. I was the best man in his wedding. I'm Lyanna's godfather."

"You're Catholic?"

"No." Jon grinned a bit wistfully. "Pod and Sansa belonged to the Universalist Unitarian Church in their town for a while. They wrote out their own ceremony and included that element of having godparents. Sansa's sister Arya is Lyanna's godmother."

Tormund whistled and nodded. "Wow. Progressive. I approve. So, is it because you're this kid's godfather...?"

"No, and please don't refer to her as 'this kid'. Lyanna is..." He smiled, thinking of the little lady who had told him when he was leaving to "have a safe trip, Jon, and please return soon." She'd reminded him of her mother in that moment, but then everything Lyanna did reminded Jon of Sansa. "She's a one of a kind kid."

"Well, it's obvious she's wormed her way in your heart," Tormund chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. 

Jon smiled. "She has. It's not hard. And it's not just Lyanna. It's Neddy - _Ned_ \- too." He frowned now. "And I worry about him - both of them actually, but Ned has sort of retreated into himself and I've seen his father do that. It was never pretty when Pod finally exploded."

"You sound like you want to be a father to these - Lyanna and Ned. Jon, you're not."

"I know that. I know I'm not. I'm not looking to be their father. I'm looking to be their friend and help them through this. I feel like I sorta need them too right now." He gestured to the campus buildings behind Tormund. "Come on, let's face it, I've been spinning my wheels here the past year. I've been having a hard time writing anything that doesn't sound like the same shit I wrote a million times before, I've been telling you for a while that I haven't been enjoying my classes...now with Pod gone and his family in need, I feel like I have a purpose. I feel like I have something I can do that will make a difference to someone."

"That sounds a little bit like dangerous territory."

"How so?"

"A need to be needed."

Jon snorted. "If you met Sansa, you'd wonder about that."

"She pretty?"

"Who? Sansa?"

Tormund rolled his eyes. "Yes, of course Sansa."

Jon nodded. "She is. More than pretty actually. She's gorgeous. But she's one of those types that doesn't know that she is."

"Which makes her even more gorgeous. I'm getting a clearer picture here now, Snow."

Jon thought of the contract and he shook his head adamantly. "No. No. That has nothing to do with it. It has to do with feeling it right there in my fucking gut that I need to be there. It's almost like Pod is pushing me there." If he considered the contract, it was exactly like that because it was Pod's wish for Jon to be there for his family, but in Jon's gut, it wasn't that. He had no intention of marrying Sansa just because Pod asked him to and made him sign some flimsy piece of paper. He wanted to be there because he wanted to do right by his best friend and right by the man's family. 

Then he thought about how he still had said flimsy piece of paper and he would again wonder if that really had anything to do with it. Why hadn't he ever thrown the fucking thing out? It wasn't as though Pod had ever brought it up again, never asked him if he still had it. So why did he?

It was probably his pack rat tendencies. 

"That's at least makes me feel a bit better than needing to be needed," Tormund said and ran his hand down his long red beard. Jon wondered what it was with him being surrounded by redheads. His ex had been a redhead, then there was Tormund, Lyanna, and Sansa. 

"It's not that," Jon said. "At least, I don't think it is. Look, I don't listen to my gut very often. Only when it's screaming at me. It's screaming now."

"And the gorgeous Sansa has nothing at all to do with it?"

"She's my best friend's wife, Tormund," Jon snipped. "Jesus. She's a fucking widow. Have some respect."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Tormund said and held up a hand. "That was in poor taste. But, ya know, all kidding aside - just be careful. You're an all right looking fellow—"

"Gee, thanks," Jon said dryly. 

“And Gorgeous Sansa is grieving. As are you. It’s easy to get caught up in something that isn’t real when two people are in mourning and looking for some comfort.”

“I would never do that to Pod, Tormund. Neither would Sansa.”

Tormund sighed. “Pod’s dead, Jon, and you and Sansa are very much alive.”

xxxxxxxxxx

As Jon made his way onto the escalator with one suitcase in his hand and backpack slung over his shoulder, he heard his name being shouted. He scanned the crowd of people down below, some with signs of the names of people they were waiting for, and some without. 

Then he saw them: Lyanna, Ned, and Sansa. Lyanna and Ned were jumping up and down and waving their arms while Sansa hung back, watching them, and holding a small and long rectangular piece of paper with his name on it. The paper looked like a receipt, and his name appeared to have been written in blank ink and hastily colored in. He laughed, wondering what that was all about and thinking he had an idea Lyanna was involved. 

Any doubts he had still harbored dissolved in the face of Lyanna and Ned chanting his name and doing everything they could to get his attention. Fuck Tormund and his warning. Being here with them was the right thing to do. 

He looked over at Sansa who was watching her kids in amusement. She was smiling, and her blue eyes sparkled with humor. He heard Tormund in his head saying, _“Gorgeous Sansa.”_

It was true. She _was_ gorgeous. It was an indisputable fact, and Jon had always thought so. That still had nothing to do with why he was doing this, and it didn’t change the fact that Sansa was his friend and the wife of his best friend. Nothing would happen between them ever. Tormund could warn him all he wanted, but Sansa was in no place to start any kind of relationship, and she wouldn’t choose him of all people should the day arrive that she was ready to move on. Nor would Jon even think to start up anything with her. That would be a betrayal to Pod, and Jon was nothing if not loyal and, he liked to think, honorable. 

And why was he even thinking about this? It was ridiculous and pointless. _Fuckin’ Tormund,_ he thought. 

Once he’d managed to get to Lyanna and Ned, he dropped his luggage to the floor and knelt down while they rushed to him. 

“Jon! Jon! You’re here!”

“You came back!”

“I said I would, didn’t I?” Jon said as they hugged him and continued to jump up and down. When he nearly fell backwards, Sansa stepped in. 

“All right, kiddos, let Jon up,” she said. 

They let him go and Jon rose, ruffling Ned’s hair as he did. He smiled at Sansa and pointed at the scrap of paper she still held in her hand. “I wasn’t gone that long. Did you think I wouldn’t recognize you?”

She laughed and shook her head. “Lyanna saw people with signs and thought you should have one.” She held it up, pinched between two fingers and waved it. It sounded crinkly. “It’s a receipt I fished out of the bottom of my purse, along with the pen. You’re welcome.”

He laughed. “I just had this funny feeling Lyanna was involved.”

“Jon,” Ned said, tugging on his shirt.

“Yeah?” Jon asked, putting his hand on Ned’s shoulder. 

“When Daddy would come home from visiting you, he would get to pick the place we had dinner.” He looked at his Mom now. “Does Jon get to do that too?”

“No, Neddy,” Lyanna answered. “Jon is not Daddy. He doesn’t get to do what Daddy did.” 

“And we already have dinner cooking in the crockpot at home,” Sansa chimed in. 

“Maybe he can choose something else as a welcome home,” Lyanna said. 

Jon arched a brow at her. “Any ideas?”

Without even taking a minute to think about it Lyanna said, “Ice cream. You should get ice cream.”

“Yeah!” Ned exclaimed and punched the air with his fist. “Chocolate Peanut Butter from Kimball’s!”

Jon laughed and looked at Sansa. “Chocolate Peanut Butter from Kimball’s it is then.”

Sansa just smiled and patted the side of his face with her hand. “Welcome back, Jon. I sincerely hope you don’t regret this.”

Jon shook his head. “I won’t.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your awesome sauce comments. It keeps me going! :)

“So, what exactly is the deal with your car?” Sansa asked later that night after the kids were in bed. She and Jon were sitting on opposite end of the couch, Sansa with a glass of wine and Jon with a bottle of beer.

“It’s being driven here by a big ass truck.”

“And your apartment?”

“Subletting.”

“Furniture?”

“Some of it is in storage. The nicer pieces.”

Sansa grinned. “Is it safe to assume that Dr. Jon Snow lived a bit like the very students he taught?”

Jon grinned back. “With some ratty second-hand furniture and a fridge stocked with beer? Yes.”

Sansa moved, tucking her legs under her as she faced him more fully. “And I imagine your floors littered with papers. Some crushed up in little balls with ideas you’ve tossed, and some fully intact.”

Jon laughed softly. “My whole apartment? Even the kitchen?”

“Well, maybe not there.”

“I had a study complete with recycling bin.”

“You’re killing me here, Snow.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Payne.”

Sansa’s smile fell slightly and she shifted again, putting her feet back on the floor and yet bending one leg up on the sofa as she kept her body angled toward Jon. “Speaking of changes, I almost colored my hair the other day.”

Jon looked at her incredulously. “Why? Why would you do that? Sansa, your hair is gorgeous.” He inwardly winced as soon as those words left his mouth. Again he heard Tormund in his head: _Gorgeous Sansa._

“Thank you,” she said, “but I just had this moment where I needed something to change. I know what you’re thinking – hasn’t enough changed? I just thought maybe if I changed something I would feel different.” She leaned over to the coffee table and put her glass down. “I walk around with this ache in my chest every day. It feels like someone has reached in and is just squeezing my heart. All I want to do is sleep because only then can I escape it. But then if I dream of him, it makes it worse.” With one elbow bent on the back of the couch, Sansa covered her face with her hand resting on her forehead. “Sometimes in the morning I think he’s there and if I open my eyes he’ll disappear. And I just want to lay there and pretend for a little while longer that he’s with me.” She moved her hand away and Jon could see tears glistening in her eyes.

Putting his beer down on the coffee table next to her glass of wine, Jon got up and sat down right next to her. He took her hand in his and squeezed.

“I sound crazy, don’t I?” she whispered.

“No, Sansa, no. Not at all. On the plane ride here I actually thought – when I get off the plane, Pod is going to be standing there with his family. It’ll have been some elaborate twisted joke and he’ll pat me on the back and grin at me like ‘No hard feelings, right buddy?’”

She laughed softly, and a few tears escaped. She wiped at them. “I know that look well. For me it was that ‘I’m so adorable you can’t possibly be pissed at me’ look. Neddy gets that look when he’s done something he shouldn’t have.” She sighed. “When my father died when I was in high school, I remember my mother thinking she saw him. Like, not as a ghost, but when she went out to do errands. Just a face in the crowd. We were worried about her.”

“I’ve heard that’s normal.”

“It is, but it’s hard to watch someone almost convince themselves that it happened.” She looked at him, head tilted to the side and an inquisitive expression on her face. “Have you had to deal with a lot of death or…?”

Jon sighed and shook his head. “No. I mean, my mother died giving birth to me and my father took off for God knows where afterwards and put me up for adoption. I was in and out of foster homes until I was fifteen and stayed with a family until I left for college. I still keep in touch with them; they live in Florida now."

"Jesus, Jon. What the fuck?"

His laugh was like a puff of air. "I know. I hear myself saying all that and it sounds awful."

"It kind of is. How are you not in therapy right now?"

"I was, when I was sixteen. If I didn't have my nose in a book or my pen to paper writing really shitty, angst-ridden poetry, then my fists were flying. I made it really hard for my foster parents to the point that they almost sent me away, so I knew I had to get better. They told me I had to go to therapy or else, and so I did."

"I knew you had a foster home, but I didn't know all of that," Sansa said softly. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, Jon." She squeezed his hand, reminding Jon that he was still holding it.

"I survived," he murmured, glancing down at their conjoined hands. Despite how delicate her hands appeared, there was steel in them. He could feel it in her grip. "College was my fresh start," he said. "And Pod was the first real friendship I had." He let go of her hand to grab his beer. 

"He adored you," she said with a gentle smile. 

"And he worshipped you," Jon said quietly. 

"He was a wonderful husband," she murmured. 

"And a loyal best friend."

With a heavy sigh, Sansa got up and looked down at him. "I have a busy day tomorrow, I need to get some sleep. I'll be up at seven getting the kids up and ready for Rec."

"Do you usually make them breakfast and pack their lunches or something?"

"Yep, exactly that. Then I drive them over to Rec for the day."

"Do you mind if I join you so I know where to go? I could drive you to work and take your car so I can get started on what needs to be done to finish that extension."

She snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "That reminds me. I talked to Sandor while you were in Portland and he said that when you were ready to start, to give him a call. I think I will do that tomorrow if you don't mind?"

Jon shrugged and got to his feet, putting his beer back down on the table. "Not at all."

"I'll ask him to swing by. He can get you up to speed on what he and Pod needed to do or whatever."

"Sounds good."

Sansa smiled and then wrapped her arms around him in a hug. "I am glad you're here. I think you're nuts for doing all this, but I am grateful."

"You're welcome," he mumbled. She smelled good, like something fresh and sweet, yet it wasn't overpowering. 

She patted his cheek as she had done at the airport, and it reminded him of something she'd do to one of the kids. "We hope you enjoy your stay here at Chateau de Payne."

xxxxxxxx

Ned wanted to stay home with Jon. 

Lyanna wanted to borrow Sansa's iPod. 

Both kids were crying at Sansa because she told them no to both things. 

And Jon, poor Jon, was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking like he didn't know what to do. And Sansa was loathe to ask him to do anything even though she knew he wanted to help and was here for that very purpose. But she was their mother and he was not their father. Besides, he was there more for finishing the extension, not helping her raise her kids. 

"Ned, why don't you help me make breakfast, man?" Jon said, darting a glance at Sansa that said, Is that okay?

Sansa mouthed 'Thank you'. 

Ned followed Jon to the fridge while Sansa attempted to find her other shoe. Lyanna followed her into foyer at the front of the house as she knew her daughter would. 

"Why can't I use it?" Lyanna demanded. 

"Because my iPod is not for you. It's mine, and I don't want it getting lost like you lost the Wonder Woman doll you brought there."

"That was _last year_ , Mom. I'm not going to lose your iPod. I'm responsible."

Sansa, having now found her shoe in the foyer, went to the living room and slipped it on. She put her hands on her lap and looked at her daughter, Lyanna's last words echoing in her head: _I'm responsible._ Where the hell did she learn to talk like that, and to _say_ it like that, as though she was a fully formed adult and not a little girl of only seven?

Lyanna looked like her and yet reminded Sansa a great deal of her sister, Arya. Pod thought their daughter was Sansa through and through, but Sansa didn't see it. She only heard Arya's willfulness coming out of Lyanna's mouth. 

"I said no, Lyanna," Sansa said firmly. "And that's the end of the story."

Lyanna went red in the face. A sure sign she was going to blow. Sansa braced herself for the eruption. "You're mean!" Lyanna shouted at her. "Daddy would have let me use his iPod! I wish you had died instead of him!"

Well. That was new. And it hurt. Like a motherfucker. 

Sansa sat there, stunned, while Lyanna ran off, no doubt to her room. 

This was not a good morning. She chalked it up to the fact that their routine of the past couple weeks was off now that Jon was here. Maybe Lyanna wanted to show off. Maybe they just felt odd having someone here that was not family even though they really liked Jon. 

Sansa herself felt it odd to have someone else in the house, too. But then, she was still getting used to not having her husband there. 

Because he was never going to be there again. Ever. Again. 

Her eyes welled up in tears and in her head she told herself to stop being weak. To stop crying. Crying wasn't going to solve this situation, and it wasn't going to bring Pod back. 

"Sansa?"

She looked up and there was Jon, coming toward her, concern etched on his handsome face. "What is it?" he asked. "What happened?"

He was reaching for her like he wanted to hug her. Sansa didn't want a hug. If she hugged him, she'd break down completely. Instead, she waved his hands away and stood. "My daughter wishes I had died instead of her father, that's all."

" _Jesus_ ," Jon said. "That's fucking harsh."

"I'm just going to let her cool off for a bit. Honestly, I need to as well."

"Do you want me to talk to her?"

"No. She's not your responsibility, Jon."

Sansa realized she'd said that harsher than intended when he raised his hands in surrender. "I know that, San. I wasn't trying to overstep."

Sansa rubbed her forehead. "No, I'm sorry, I know that, I'm just - I think they're out of sorts this morning and I'm a little out of sorts."

Jon frowned. "Because I'm here."

"Maybe? I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Sansa, stop apologizing. You haven't done anything wrong."

"My daughter wishes I was dead. Obviously, I have!" She hadn't meant to shout the last part. Jon moved toward her again, and she held up her hands. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I just need some fucking coffee."

"I made you a cup," Jon said gently. "It's waiting for you."

She nodded. "Thank you," she said and strode off towards the kitchen. _I am going to have a good day, goddammit,_ she thought determinedly. 

xxxxxxxx

Mother and daughter did not make amends before Lyanna and Ned were dropped off at Rec for the day. Lyanna spent the entire car ride over looking sullen, and Ned spent the whole time talking about how he and his friends were going to build a Lego robot that day. 

Sansa just drove, one hand on the steering wheel and her other arm resting on the door and rubbing her forehead. Jon sat there, feeling helpless. If this was a movie, he would turn around and say something to Lyanna about how her mother did so much for her and loved her more than anything in the world. He would then tell her how her words hurt her mother that morning. Lyanna would feel so guilty she'd apologize through her tears and they'd make up. He'd also give Ned pointers on how to build that Lego robot and it would be the best Lego robot anyone would ever see. They'd make a display of it to show everyone and Ned would be the happiest little boy in the world. 

Instead, everyone was in varying degrees of tense and upset, except for maybe Ned who had gotten over wanting to stay home with Jon when he remembered said Lego robot. 

Jon thought perhaps Tormund was on to something. Maybe Jon did have a desire to be needed. Maybe he had thought he would come here and put everything to rights and then ride off into the sunset, giving himself a pat on the back and saying _'See Pod? I did what you asked and they're all better now.'_

When they got to the Rec department, Sansa told Jon to wait for her and she walked the kids inside. She didn't look anymore happy when she returned. 

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked after she'd gotten back on the road. 

"I did." He hadn't. Not really. The first few nights were always the hardest in a new place, and even though he had stayed with them before, this felt like a whole new ballgame. 

"Tomorrow morning will be better," Sansa said and it sounded like she wasn't trying to convince him so much as herself. 

"Sansa, I'm sorry if I've made things harder--"

"You haven't. This is all an adjustment, Jon. Pod being gone being the big one. They haven't gotten through that yet. You being here is cake compared to that. They will adjust to you being here long before they adjust to not having a father anymore." Her voice cracked at the end, but in true Sansa fashion, she did not give in to the tears. And, because she was driving with the hand closest to Jon, he could not hold it.


	5. Chapter 5

Sansa’s bakery, aptly named Sweet Tooth, looked pretty standard as bakeries went. It was the little touches inside that made it unique. Aside from the ever present display case that was the staple in every bakery, Sansa had filled the bakery with what appeared to be refurbished furniture. There were two chests painted white and sanded for the right effect. One held an assortment of bagged candy and plastic-wrapped treats. Another was set against the wall and held four Keurig’s, plus small carafes for cream, half-and-half, and milk, plus a plastic container with an assortment of sugars. 

There was a desk that currently held candies in dishes with spoons, and an assortment of sugar cookies in different shapes – stars, penguins, dog, cat, even a giraffe, including a boy and girl-shaped cookies. And then there was the frosting. Tubes of it and in different colors sitting in a big bowl. 

Jon pointed at the table and grinned. “My favorite.”

Sansa laughed. “Yes, I remember you making the most mess when you and Pod came to visit me with the kids once. I’m going to check on Margaery in the back, don’t leave yet.”

“I won’t.”

Instead, Jon took in the rest of the place. It had been a while since he’d been there last. There was an assortment of tables, off to the right of the room, all small but some were round, some were square, and they were painted in soft pastels with the same shabby chic refurbishing. The chairs were the same, none of them matched in structure, but were painted the same as the tables. There was also a booth tucked in the corner near the windows and Jon knew instantly that was a probably much fought for place to sit. 

It was as impressive as it had been the first time he’d seen it. Although not as impressive as the cannoli’s she made. Sansa was an amazing baker, and everyone in Winterfell knew it which was why her bakery was the go-to place for birthday cakes, as well as other celebratory events. The only thing she didn’t do was wedding cakes, though Jon remembered Pod trying to convince her more than once to do them. 

_“Sansa, your cakes are amazing and everyone knows it,” Pod would tell her._

_“But wedding cakes are so particular and much bigger than a birthday cake,” Sansa would return. “What if I messed it all up?”_

_Pod would look at her with his unwavering faith in her and say, “Impossible.”_

Jon was with Pod. Everything Sansa made was art. He could just imagine a wedding cake would be out of this world amazing. 

The scent of something sweet tickled his nose and Jon breathed in deeply and ambled over to the display case. It wasn’t full yet, but close. He was considering a brownie when a loud rap came at the glass door. 

Jon knew they weren’t open yet – not for another half-hour, and he wondered if the big burly man outside saw the sign was still set to closed.

Sansa came out of the back, a white apron on and her hair tied back. She waved and smiled at the man at the door and went to open it. 

The man, who took up almost all the door as he stepped inside – and not because he was overweight, but because he was just so tall and muscular and huge – greeted Sansa with a softly rumbled, “Hello, Little Bird.” 

“I was just going to call you!” she said with a bright smile. 

“Were you now?”

“Sandor, I want you to meet Jon.”

 _This_ was Sandor? 

Jon came over to them and held out a hand to Sandor. It was then that he got a good look at the side of the other man’s face. It was scarred, burned actually, and it covered the marks covered the whole side of his face. He didn’t want to react, but he knew he must have for Sandor’s eyes narrowed at him and he ducked his head, allowing his shoulder-length thin hair to cover his face. He took Jon’s hand quickly and shook it, squeezing a little tighter than need be, but Jon figured he deserved it. 

“Nice to meet you, Sandor,” he said politely. “Sansa tells me you were a friend of Pod’s?”

“I was, yes,” Sandor said, his voice a bit raspy, almost as though he needed to clear it. “We worked together. You’re the old college friend?”

“I am.”

“And you’ve moved out here to finish what Pod started?”

“That’s right.”

Sandor’s thin lips turned down as he studied Jon, arms folded across his chest. “You sure you’re up to it?”

Jon nodded. “I believe I am.”

“You either are or you aren’t. I find it a little odd that you’ve move across the country to do something that someone else could just as easily do.”

Sansa had said Sandor was gruff; she didn’t tell him he was an asshole. Jon tamped down his annoyance for Sansa’s sake. 

“Sandor, that’s enough,” Sansa reprimanded gently. “We like Jon. He’s good people. Besides, he’s Lyanna’s godfather, and the kids adore him.” She moved over to where the Keurig’s were and proceeded to start one up. “Coffee?”

“Yes. Thank you.” Sandor went back to eyeing Jon. “Fine. I can stop by after I get off at the site and go over everything with you. That all right?”

Jon nodded. “Perfect. Anything I should do to get ready?”

“Read up on construction? You look like you have professor hands.”

Jon looked down at his hands curiously, holding them up. “Professor hands?”

“Yeah, they’ve never done anything more than grading a few papers and cracking the spines on your fancy books.”

“I’m sorry, but have I already done something to piss you off?” Jon asked. 

Sandor didn’t answer. Not in words anyway. He grunted. 

“You’re fine, Jon,” Sansa said as she came over with a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee. She handed it over to Sandor. “Sandor, play nice.”

“You know that’s not my style, Little Bird,” Sandor said and took a sip of his coffee. 

“Remember how much you love Pod and tolerate me then,” Sansa said with a knowing smile. 

Sandor looked at her and then rolled his eyes and snorted. “All right.” He looked at Jon. “See you around five-thirty?”

Jon grunted in the affirmative. 

Sandor left, lifting his cup of coffee in a kind of salute to Sansa, and Jon arched his brow at her. “He and Pod were friends? You said he was gruff; you didn’t mention he was also an asshole.”

The door to the kitchen swung open and out came a tall brunette with blue eyes and brown hair pulled up into a bun. She had a pert nose and an angular mouth which was currently curled into a grin. She too wore an apron and there was a dusting of flour on her cheek. “Well, hello there,” she purred. “You’re Jon, right?”

Jon nodded and held out his hand. “And you must be Margaery.”

She smiled broadly and Jon thought she was quite beautiful. “I am. It’s so nice to meet you. Sansa tells me you’re going to finish the extension Pod started.”

“I’m going to try my best,” Jon said with a little laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. Beautiful women always made him a little nervous. He never knew what to say. If they asked him to write what he was thinking, he could write an ode. But to actually force words from his mouth? No. 

“Are the sugar cookies in?” Sansa asked. 

“Should be done in ten minutes,” Margaery answered. 

“Excellent. I have a birthday cake to start. Jon, do you think you can find your way back?”

“I do,” he replied and patted the pocket of his jeans. “If I get lost, I’ve got GPS on my phone.”

“Can you pick me up at three? I need to get the kids from Rec.”

“Of course.”

“You can pick me up at six for dinner,” Margaery said. 

Jon blinked. “Um, what?”

Margaery smirked. “Six. For dinner?”

Was this what a deer caught in the headlights felt like? He stared at her, uncertain how to answer, and then looked at Sansa. _Help,_ he silently pleaded. 

Sansa rolled her eyes and grabbed Margaery’s elbow, steering her toward the kitchen with her. “For God’s sake, Margaery. Goodbye Jon!”

“Bye!” Jon called out and practically ran out of the bakery. 

xxxxxxxxxxxx

“You didn’t mention he was cute,” Margaery said to Sansa as they re-entered the kitchen. 

Sansa went to the book of cake orders and flipped to that days order. “I didn’t know I was supposed to mention that.”

“Well, _duh_.”

“Hey, Margaery.”

“Yeah?”

Sansa smiled as she looked at her friend. “Jon’s cute.”

“He’s actually pretty fucking hot. That curly hair? That man bun? And I can tell he’s got a body on him.”

Sansa furrowed her brows. “You can?”

Margaery rolled her eyes. “Yes. You need to set me up.”

Sansa sighed and rubbed her forehead. “He’s probably only going to be here as long as it takes to finish that extension. Are you sure you want to get involved with someone who might be gone in a few months?”

“Yes.”

Sansa laughed. “All right. I’ll see what I can do.”

xxxxxxxxxx

Jon stood in front of Pod’s tombstone and shuffled his feet, his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans. “Buddy, I can’t believe you’re in here,” he muttered. His gaze drifted to the manicured lawn, and the plots with flowers and bushes, and other assorted items on them. One had a full beer bottle next to it. Another had a rattle – okay, that was fucking sad. 

Jon sighed. “I’m here, Pod. You asked me to help Sansa and the kids and I’m here. But I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t know when to say something and when to not, and I don’t want to step on Sansa’s toes – fuck, I’m not…I’m not anything to them. I’m just their father’s weird friend.” He pinched the bridge of his nose to stem the tears he felt gathering. What had happened with Lyanna and Sansa came spilling out, along with the frustration that he wanted to help in some way because he didn’t think Lyanna should have gone to school angry at her mother and Sansa shouldn’t have gone to work sad. Didn’t they know that anything could happen? That something could take the other away and they’d be sorry for a stupid argument over an iPod?  
“And I remember hearing you mention your ‘friend’ Sandor, but he’s actually a fucking dick if you ask me,” Jon rambled on. “He’s making me wonder what kind of person I am that I was your best friend if you considered that asshole a friend.” Jon shut his eyes. “Fuck. Pod…this is the hardest part: referring to our relationship and to you in past tense. I’m standing here feeling pretty fucking shitty about this whole goddamn thing and wondering how Sansa and the kids must feel. I lost my best friend, but Sansa lost her husband and Lyanna and Ned lost their father. This fucking sucks, man. I hate it. I hate every single bit of this.”

Now he was angry. Angry that Pod was gone. Angry at the person who hit him and took him from the people who loved him and needed him. Angry at himself for not having come around more, and even angry that he was there, feeling pretty fucking useless. What had he done by coming here? Did they really need him? Had he made a mistake?

“I’ll see you later,” Jon muttered and stalked off, tears running down his face as he made his way back to the car. 

xxxxxxxx

Sansa opened the bathroom door tucked down a hall beyond the kitchen. Margaery was leaning against the adjacent wall looking at her in concern. “All right?” she asked. 

Sansa nodded and wiped the few remaining tears from her face. “All right.”

Margaery wrapped an arm about her shoulders and walked her back to the kitchen. It happened from time to time, the need to cry. Sometimes it was like she was a pressure cooker, and it all just built up inside her until she burst. And when she did it, she preferred to do it alone. Margaery knew though, and she would make sure to be there with a hug and some kind of silly joke or comment after to make her smile. This time it was how the guy who came to pick up the cake for his wife’s birthday looked like a penis. Sansa wasn’t sure how that worked exactly, but it made her laugh nonetheless. 

It got her through the rest of the work day, and that was something.


	6. Chapter 6

Rather than go in when it was time to get Sansa, Jon waited by leaning against the car for her across the street. He tried to hand her the car keys as soon as she walked out, but she asked him if he minded driving. 

He didn't mind, not at all, and she then asked him, somewhat nervously if it was all right if she ever ran into a jam and couldn't get a hold of her mother or something to get the kids, could he do it. 

"I think we need to talk about what it is I'm exactly doing here," he told her as she directed him where to go. It helped to be the one driving as it set it in his mind where he needed to go. 

"I think that's a good idea," she murmured. 

"I don't want to be just some guest that stays in your house and finishes up that room, San. I want to help you. I promised Pod I would, and besides, you're my friend too. I want to do what I can while I'm here to get you and kids through this...transition. At the same time, I don't want to step on your toes. I'm not family--"

"You are Jon. You are family."

"Well, I am and I'm not. You're their Mom and it's not my place to discipline them."

"If I'm not around, you'd have to. And I'm not saying I plan to dump them on you while I go off gallivanting or whatever, I'm just saying that in the event I'm not around and you see them doing something they're not supposed to do, stop them."

"I can do that."

"I don't want you to intrude in when I am disciplining, nor do I want you to do it when I'm right there and fully capable."

"Got it."

"And I am rather wary of asking you to help too much because you'll eventually go back to Portland."

"That remains to be seen."

She looked at him. "Pardon?"

He shrugged. "I don't know what's going to happen down the road. I'm kind of just going by the seat of my pants here."

"Isn't that uncomfortable?"

He laughed. "Yeah, it is, but...but I just feel like here is where I need to be right now."

"But you won't live with us forever, Jon."

"No," he said slowly. "But I want to be around."

"How about we play it all by ear? You ask me when it's safe to jump in and I'll let you know if it is or not."

"That'll work."

"I just don't want you to feel like you're a built-in caregiver on top of finishing that damn extension. I'm new at this, Jon, this single mom thing. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing and I don't want to confuse the kids, and I don't want them to come to rely on you too much should the day come when you're not there. They've had too much loss already."

Sansa didn't know it, but that was what decided Jon then and there. No matter what, he wasn't going anywhere. Lyanna and Ned were already dealing with so much loss, how could he, in good conscience, take off on them in a few months’ time like he'd never been there? 

He could hear Pod's voice in his head, clear as the day he'd said it: _"I want you to marry her, man."_

No, that wasn't happening. But he would be there for all of them as much as he could anyway. 

"Margaery asked me to put in a good word for her," Sansa said, causing Jon to completely change gears in his head. 

He glanced at her. "What?"

She smiled at him, and he thought - _I want her to smile more. She has a contagious, beautiful smile._

"She thinks you're hot," Sansa continued with a giggle. "And she's not opposed, from what I gather, to a friends with benefit situation."

Jon cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. "She's pretty, beautiful really, but no."

"No?" Sansa sounded amused. Jon was not. 

"No. I'm not...I'm not looking to get involved with anyone right now - even it is just a casual thing, which is not really my style anyway. Like we just talked about, I'm here for a reason, and that is not to date."

"You may change your mind being around a widow and two grieving kids," she drawled. "You may need to blow off some steam and be around people who function normally."

"I'm not functioning normally myself," he said. 

Silence fell. Sansa told him to turn left. Then she reached out and squeezed his arm. "I'm sorry, Jon. You lost him too."

xxxxxxx

"Ned pushed one of his friends down?" Sansa said, puzzled. "My Ned."

His teacher, Miss Nancy, nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry, Mrs. Payne."

"Sansa, just call me Sansa." She sighed and looked over at Ned across the room where he was showing Jon and Lyanna the Lego Robot he and his friends had been working on all day. 

Miss Nancy frowned, shifted on her feet, and looked at Sansa with an apologetic expression. "He's had a couple incidents over the few days."

"He has?"

Miss Nancy nodded. 

"And why am I just hearing about it now?" She was aware that her voice had risen while asking this. Some kids and volunteers looked up at her, so did Jon. 

"With all that you've been dealing with, we didn't want to upset you." Miss Nancy looked about ready to piddle on the rug.

"If my kid is pushing other kids and being a jerk, I need to know that. Ned has his moments, but he's usually well-behaved and he isn't aggressive. You know this."

Miss Nancy looked properly chastised. "I do. And I'm sorry," she whispered. 

"What else has he done?"

Miss Nancy cleared her throat. "He threw another child's lunch on the floor, and he hit another during free play."

Sansa clenched her jaw tight. "Ned, come on, let's go."

Ned bolted up, Sansa watched him and Jon heft up the Lego Robot and carry it over to show her. She smiled, despite the fact that she was concerned about her son's outburst of aggression, and pissed that she was just now hearing about it.

Soon, the Lego Robot was left behind and the kids followed behind Jon and Sansa to the car. 

“Everything okay?” Jon asked her softly. It was obvious he didn’t want Lyanna and Ned to hear him. 

“No,” Sansa said bluntly. “Do you want to drive again?”

“Sure. Just tell me if I take a wrong turn.”

“I will.”

Once settled in the car, and after they’d pulled out onto the road, Sansa turned to look at her son in the backseat. “Ned, Miss Nancy said you pushed one of your friends today.”

Ned looked at his mother. “Joffrey is not my friend.”

“You pushed Joffrey Lannister?” Lyanna asked. 

“Do you know him?” Sansa asked her daughter. 

Lyanna nodded, her eyes wide. “He’s really mean, Mom. Like, really mean. No one likes him.”

“That doesn’t excuse Ned’s behavior,” Sansa said sternly and looked at her son who was now looking down at his lap. “Miss Nancy also tells me there have been other incidents of hitting and dumping someone’s lunch on the floor. What is that about, Ned?”

Ned shrugged and mumbled, “I don’t know.” 

Sansa had never understood until she became a parent how “I don’t know” as an answer was enough to make her want to scream. “No idea at all why you did those things, Neddy?”

Ned shrugged again. 

“You had to have had a reason, Ned,” Lyanna said with a roll of her eyes. 

“Lyanna, mind your own business,” Sansa said, a bit harsher than she should have. 

Lyanna went red in the face. _Here we go,_ Sansa thought. 

“Fine!” Lyanna shouted and folded her arms across her chest and looked back out the window. She was fuming; there was steam practically coming out of her ears. 

“If you have another incident, Ned, you’ll also be punished at home,” Sansa said firmly. “Not just there. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Mom,” Ned mumbled, looking ready to cry. 

Sansa sat back and sighed, rubbing her forehead with her elbow resting on the window. 

The rest of the ride was met with silence and though Sansa wondered what Jon must think, she was afraid to ask him. 

xxxxxxxxxx

For the twentieth time since Sandor had gone over what needed to be done to the room, he’d asked, “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

Finally, Jon erupted. “Okay, look, I get it. I’m a professor and I’ve never tackled a project this big before, but I’m not incompetent. I’m not exactly sure what your problem is with me, but your attitude is getting real fucking old.”

Sandor just looked at him. Then he folded his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes at Jon. “What exactly is it you’re doing here?”

“Not that it’s any of your business—”

“It is my business,” Sandor said. “Pod was my friend and so is Sansa.”

“Yeah. Friend. That’s what I see when you look at her. Friendship.”

That was perhaps the wrong thing to say. Sandor looked like he wanted to throw Jon through one of the unfinished walls. “Sansa is one of the nicest people in this town,” he hissed. “She has been nothing but kind to me, never judging me for my fucked up face. She and Pod have done a lot of for me, so I owe them a lot. I just find it curious that this best friend I heard Pod talk about so much is all of a sudden here and shacking up with his wife.”

“Well, as you said, I was his best friend. I’m here to help Sansa and those kids because he asked me to, because I can’t just let his family go without anyone looking after them.”

Sandor snorted. “She has her family. She has me. She has Margaery. She doesn’t need you.”

“I’m here just the same. Pod was like a brother to me, and considering I never had much of one growing up, I don’t take those things lightly. Look, you can help me with this or not, I don’t really care. I’ll find someone else that will if I have to. Sansa wants me here and so do the kids. I’m not going to let you run me off because you think I’m up to something nefarious. I get it, you don’t know me from Adam. But how about instead of passing judgments and making up stories in your head about my intentions, you actually get to know me a little bit and trust that Sansa knows what she’s doing by having me here.”

Sandor just looked at him, long and hard. Finally he said, “You done?”

“Yes.”

“Then pay attention while I tell you what has to be done next.”

xxxxxxxxxx

After Sandor left Jon’s head swimming with all that needed to be done, after dinner, and after baths and bedtime rituals, Jon found an exhausted looking Sansa sitting on the kitchen floor with a glass of wine in her hand. 

He grabbed a beer out of the fridge and sank down on the floor beside her. “May I ask why the floor?”

She shrugged. “Seemed as good a place as any.”

“Fair enough.”

They sipped their drinks in silence for a bit and then Jon finally asked what had been bothering him all day: “Did Lyanna apologize for what she said this morning?”

“In a way,” Sansa said with a shrug. “She just asked me if I knew that she didn’t really want me to be dead. I said yes. We left it at that.”

Jon frowned. “San…I mean…I don’t want to overstep here, but don’t you think that’s something you should tell her not to say again?”

Sansa laughed softly. “Jon, she’s hurting. And she was angry. She wanted to hurt me. It’s no different than when she tells me she hates me. It’s just that now she’s found something else to say that she knows will hurt and get a rise out of me.” She sighed heavily. “I probably should talk to her about it, and I will if it becomes a habit, but for now I’m going to let it be. I’m too exhausted for anything else.”

“What are you thinking about Ned?” he asked softly. 

“I’m thinking that if he keeps being aggressive at school then I might have to get him some help. In fact, I’ve been thinking that it might not be a bad idea for them.”

“Like a therapist?”

“Exactly like a therapist.”

Jon nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “Might not be a bad idea.”

“Let me ask you something, and be honest.”

“Sure.”

She looked at him and he gave her his full attention. “Do you think I’m fucking them up? Do you think I’m a terrible mother?”

She looked so vulnerable asking that, her big blue eyes welling up in tears, her bottom lip trembling. Jon shook his head adamantly. “Sansa, no. No, Christ, no. I think you’re doing an amazing job considering all that’s happened. I’ve always thought you were a wonderful mother, and now I’m just…I’m blown away.” He ducked his head, feeling a blush coming on. “You’re the bravest woman I know, Sansa.”

“Thank you,” she whispered and reached out to hold his hand. Jon squeezed it and no more words were spoken for a while, the only sound in the room being the ticking of the clock. 

_For better or worse, Pod, I’m here,_ Jon thought. _I’m doing what I can. Just…help me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I know that this has been depressing and sad. and going forward it's still going to be sad, but the plot will be moving more forward now. I really wanted to get Jon and Sansa and the other players established with these first chapters. Jon's in it now, he's there. And he and Sansa have somewhat of an agreement. 
> 
> I'll probably fast forward a bit in time now. Not much, but enough to get things moving. Thanks for hanging in.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, due to some trolls that I can only assume are on school vacation and bored, I've set this fic and others to only allow those who are signed in to comment. Until the children can behave and learn to play well with others, it will stay that way.  
> I'm sorry for that inconvenience to those who don't have accounts on AO3.

It took some doing, but a month into Jon’s stay, and with the arrival of his car, a routine of sorts had developed. 

In the morning, Sansa would get the kids up while Jon made them all breakfast. They’d eat, and then Sansa would take them to Rec and then go to work while Jon worked on the extension. Jon would sometimes pick the kids up from Rec, and sometimes Sansa would do it. If he did it, he made sure to get a full report on how they were doing. Then it was dinner and bed. At night, Jon and Sansa would sit on the deck and have a drink together, or watch a movie together on Netflix before they dragged themselves up to their respective bedrooms to pass out. 

A hard decision had been made in the midst of all that: Sansa had decided to put the kids in counseling. Ned was still having episodes at Rec, and she feared what would happen when school started in just a few weeks. 

“Besides,” Sansa disclosed to him one evening while they sat outside on the deck, “I feel ill-equipped. I don’t feel like I’m handling their grief well. I can barely handle my own.”

“Sansa, the kids know that you’re available to them if they need you,” Jon assured her. He took a long pull of his beer and considered his next words. “Maybe,” he said slowly, “It would help them if they saw you break down every once in a while.”

She sighed, putting her face in her hands. “Jesus. If they saw that…yesterday at work I broke down just eating a yogurt. A fucking yogurt, Jon. I have a melt-down at least once a day in the bathroom.”

“That’s just it, though. You hide it. Maybe if they saw you break down, they would feel more comfortable doing so. Lyanna acts like she’s over it already and I know she’s not. Yesterday I saw her holding a picture of Pod in the living room, and when she heard me coming, she put it down and went about her business as though she hadn’t been—”

“Are you saying I’m fucking up my kids?” 

She was mad now, that was obvious. Her tone was biting and sent the warning that he better watch his step. 

But, because he was here for a reason and was mindful of that, he forged ahead. “I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that if they didn’t see you acting around them as if you are already over Pod being gone, then maybe they wouldn’t feel the pressure of having to act the same. You don’t even mention him—”

“I didn’t realize you were also a psychologist,” she snapped. 

Jon sighed, attempting to calm his spark of irritation. Then her shoulders started to shake as she turned her head away and he knew she was crying. He moved over to her on the lounge she’d been sitting on and pulled her into his side. She buried her face in his chest while gripping his shoulder with one hand and sobbed. 

“Sansa, you’re a fantastic mother,” he said, dipping his head down so that his lips brushed the top of her head. Her hair smelled good, sharp and fresh and clean. “Those kids love you and they know you love them. This isn’t easy on any of us. We’re all kind of figuring it out as we go. I’m just trying to tell you what I see as an outsider.”

“I don’t know how to help them. I’m afraid to show them how hard this is for me too because I don’t want them to feel as though I can’t handle anything so they can’t come to me, but I also want them to be able to grieve the way they need. I just don’t know how they need to.”

“I’m sorry,” he rasped, feeling terrible for having brought it up. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You told me not to overstep and I did. I’m sorry.”

She shook her head and pulled back to look at him, wiping at her eyes. “You didn’t. Not really. It’s just hard to hear when you’re the parent. You want to think you’re doing right by your kids even while you’re worrying that you’re doing everything wrong. I spend every day feeling overwhelmed and missing Pod so much I ache and I keep wondering when will it start getting easier?”

“It will,” Jon said earnestly, thumbing away her tears. “I promise it will.”

“When?”

“There’s no time stamp on grief. It has to run its course.”

“That’s not what I want to hear,” she groused. 

No, it probably wasn’t. Who, when dealing with a loss, didn’t want to know the exact moment when they would start feeling better? When didn’t they not want to know the magic trick to easing their plight? He remembered Ygritte telling him once that she’d told a yoga student of hers during a session in which she’d had some kind of “heart chakra breakthrough” that “you gotta feel it to heal it”. Jon had chalked it all up to some New Age bullshit when she’d told him about it, but her words, “you gotta feel it to heal it” made sense now. 

“You and Lyanna and Ned, need to just feel what you feel and let it work through you,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound utterly fucking ridiculous. Oh, if Ygritte could hear him now…

She darted a look at him that said she thought he might be half nuts, but then leaned forward, her elbows on her knees and wiped away the remaining tears. “I suppose that makes sense. Bottling it up doesn’t help. Nor does not talking about him. He was my husband. He was their father. I want them to remember him, not be this thing they never talk about because they’ve never dealt with their grief properly. I don’t want them to forget him and how amazing he was.” Her voice cracked at the end, signaling more tears and this time, Jon felt tears of his own come. 

“He was an amazing father,” Jon rasped. “He adored them. And he loved you so much.”

“I can’t smell him anymore, Jon. I’ve been sleeping with his night shirt at night and I can’t smell him anymore. Sometimes I open our closet and try to see if I can smell him there.”

“Sansa.” Jon hefted her back into him. “It’s okay if you can’t smell him—”

“No, it’s not,” she argued. “His voice is already fading; I keep trying to recall exactly how he would shout good morning to wake all of us up on a Saturday morning and then break out into ‘Oh What a Beautiful Morning’ form Oklahoma! and I can’t remember it right.”

“Goddamn morning person,” Jon attempted to joke. 

She laughed, right through her tears. “I know! God, he drove me nuts with that. Only Neddy never complained. They were like partners in crime making breakfast together while Lyanna and I whined every step of the way downstairs.”

“No wonder she sends me death-ray glares when I say good morning to her,” Jon chuckled. 

“What’ll I do when I can’t see his face without a picture and his voice goes completely from my memory?” she whispered. 

He wished he had the answer. He didn’t. “It’s part of the process,” he finally said. “It doesn’t mean you don’t love him. It just means that…that…”

“He’s dead and gone and never coming back.”

“It’s part of the process,” he repeated. 

She looked up at him. “Are you losing details of him too?”

Jon nodded, afraid to speak lest he start crying too. He couldn’t hear Pod’s voice anymore either.

She wiped her eyes and nose on his shirt and he laughed softly. She looked sheepishly at him and straightened, running her hand through her hair. “Okay, okay. Therapy. And mentioning Pod. That’s the new plan.”

“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

She shook her head. “You’re already doing it. Thank you.”

xxxxxxx

When Sansa mentioned Pod the following morning, asking if the kids remembered how he would sing “Oh, What a Beautiful Morning” to them every Saturday morning. Neddy started to laugh, a smile breaking out on his baby face, while Lyanna looked somewhat horrified. Sansa and Jon exchanged glances at Lyanna’s reaction and Jon leaned forward with a conspiratorial smile and said, “Did your Dad ever Yodel for you?”

Neddy laughed. “He did!”

Lyanna’s smile was small. Sad. “He did.”

After sharing a few more memories, it was time to go. Lyanna had fallen silent and that was concerning, but Ned was in much better spirits. Jon hoped that meant he had a better day at Rec. 

He did, but it was short-lived. Despite how much Jon wished there was in fact a balm to apply to make everything better for them, he understood that only the marching of time would do that. 

Grief, it seemed, moved at a snail’s pace and while the world carried on doing its thing. 

The other thing that moved at a snail’s pace was the extension. Jon had to admit he was out of league with it, and when Sandor was able to make it over and tell him what he’d done wrong, Jon could admit it. Not that he was keen on admitting it to Sandor though. Not when the other man still watched him like a hawk. 

As did Catelyn Stark. When Sansa’s mother would come around to visit, she was still quite wary of Jon. The words she spoke were kind, but the way she watched him interact with the kids and Sansa was not. There was suspicion in her eyes. 

One afternoon, Sansa invited the family over for a family dinner and Jon told Sansa that morning while she’d been preparing the meal that he was thinking of bailing. 

“Still afraid of my mother?” she asked with a smirk as she pulled out the roasting pan from under the cabinets of the island. 

Jon shot her a glare. “If you must know…yes. She hates me, San.”

“My Mom is leery of anyone that isn’t a Stark. Ignore her.”

“Hard to do when I feel like she’s going to burn a hole through me with her laser red eyes.”

Sansa laughed as she picked the knife up she’d had resting on the counter. She frowned and looked around. 

“What are you looking for?” Jon asked. 

“Onions.”

“Oh, hold on. They’re on the stairs to the basement.”

“Thanks!”

When Jon returned with the bag of onions, Sansa selected two and got to work on slicing them up. 

“What can I do?” Jon asked, watching her. 

“Check on the kids?”

Jon nodded and wandered off towards the sliding glass doors. They were on the playset. “Still playing.”

“Slice up the carrots in the fridge? The long way.”

“What does that even mean?”

She laughed. “It means you don’t dice them.”

“Got it.”

“Robb likes you,” she told him as he pulled the carrots out of the fridge. 

“I like him too.”

“I know you’re determined to finish that extension, room, whatever the hell you want to call it, but maybe it wouldn’t kill you to spend some time away from us.”

Jon looked up at her from the other side of the island and placed his hands on the top. “Are you saying you’re sick of me, Sansa?”

Her eyes went wide. “What? No! I’m not saying that at all.” She pointed the knife at him, slick with the juices of the onions she’d sliced. “I’m saying that before long _you’re_ going to be sick of _us._ ”

He wasn’t though. Not even close. There, with them, he felt more and more…at home. And he felt as though he was actually doing something aside from bumbling through that goddamn extension. Lyanna and Ned sometimes wanted him to tuck them in at night, and he found he looked forward to meeting up with Sansa in the living room or deck to talk about their day together. 

Their eyes met and Jon felt…something. It was as though the culmination of the past month had passed between them and what it had resulted in – a bond – was now felt and understood. 

“I’m not tired of you and the kids, Sansa,” Jon said, holding her blue-eyed gaze. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting a drink with Robb now and then.”

She smiled and he thought, _Gorgeous Sansa_. Then she nodded towards the carrots. “Those carrots aren’t going to cut themselves.”

He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”


	8. Chapter 8

“I think you should ask Jon out for a drink,” Sansa said later that afternoon when everyone had come over – even Arya – and she found herself alone with Robb in the kitchen. Everyone else was outside. 

Robb bit down on the carrot he’d just put in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “You know I’m straight, right?”

“You know what I mean, buttmunch,” Sansa said with a roll of her eyes. 

Robb chuckled and finished munching on his carrot before saying, “Yeah, I know what you mean. How long is he staying anyway?”

“Here until that extension is done. After that I don’t know.”

“How is it going with him here? I mean – is it weird?”

“It was at first, still sometimes is, but we’re hitting a groove I think. He’s been helpful.”

“Like watching the kids and stuff?”

“That, yes, when I need it, plus he helps with making meals every now and again. He’s good with bouncing ideas off of too.”

“Such as?”

She sighed. “Well, I’ve contacted a therapist for the kids. They have their first appointment tomorrow.”

Robb’s eyes went wide. “A therapist, huh?”

She nodded as she grabbed a white wine from the fridge and handed it to Robb to uncork. He picked up the wine opener off the counter and went to work. 

“Ned’s been aggressive at Rec with his friends,” Sansa said, “And Lyanna acts like Pod never existed. And she’s been bossier than usual.” She made a face expressing her sudden doubt. “Do you think it’s a bad idea? I mean, do you remember when Mom put me in therapy after I dated Ramsey in high school? I was so ashamed.”

“Mom might have been a little overbearing in doing that, but you told me after it helped.”

She sighed and nodded and pushed a wine glass toward him after he’d gotten the cork out. “It did help,” she said as he poured her a glass of wine. “I just worry about if their friends find out and tease them for it or whatever. They are already dealing with so much.”

“I don’t think you can worry about that when it comes to getting them what they need while they’re grieving,” Robb said, pushing now filled wine glass toward her. 

“Yes, you’re right. This is just hard, Robb. Pod and I would make decisions together for them. Now it’s just me. Jon helps, but he’s not their Dad. And he’s not going to be here forever.”

“You keep forgetting that you have me and Mom, maybe even Arya to help you with all this too.”

“I haven’t forgotten, but you know how Mom can be…”

Robb smirked. “Overbearing, I think we called it?”

“And you work a lot. And Arya and I…”

“Butt heads?”

“I’m just finding my footing right now. When it’s time, Jon will go and I’ll have a better handle on everything because hopefully by then we’ll be past this phase of mourning and on our way to healing.”

“You know I think it’s fine that Jon is here, right?”

Sansa sighed. “Mom doesn’t think it is.”

“Well, Mom is Mom.”

“Meaning she can be a bit judgmental?”

“And mistrusting.”

“Okay, we have to stop,” Sansa said. “I feel bad now.”

“Hey, you know what I miss about Pod?” Robb asked with a grin. 

“What’s that?” Sansa asked with a smile. 

“How I’d punch him in the arm, just playing around, and he’d act like it hurt. I felt his arm – he was pretty fucking ripped.”

Sansa sighed wistfully, a small knowing smile on her face. “Yeah he was.”

Robb frowned. “Okay, see, you just made it weird.”

She laughed. “I know you’re ripped too.”

“And you just made it weirder.”

Sansa doubled over, laughing when Jon and Arya entered the kitchen from the sliding glass doors. Jon halted when he saw brother and sister laughing together. “We interrupting a moment?”

Arya rolled her eyes. “There is always a moment with these two.”

“Hey, you and I have our moments too, Squirt,” Robb told her. He gestured to the wine. “Want a glass?”

Arya shook her head. “I’m going to have a beer with Jon.”

Jon went over to the fridge presumably to get himself and Arya a beer. 

“I’m not a child anymore, Robb,” Arya grumbled. “I’m twenty-five years old. When are you going to stop calling me squirt?”

Robb pretended to think about it. “When you get taller?” 

“I’m not going to get any taller!”

“Then I’ll keep calling you squirt.”

Arya rolled her eyes again, but then smiled a bit coyly when Jon handed her a beer. Sansa noted the smile and her gaze flickered to Jon who was oblivious because, well, he was looking directly at her. “Need any help with anything?” he asked her. 

“Um, sure, do you and Arya want to round up the kids and have them wash their hands?”

“Sure,” he said and put his beer down after taking a swig. Arya put her beer down next to his and they headed out. 

Sansa watched them go and then leaned over the counter and smacked Robb on the arm. “Did you see that?”

“Ow! What the fuck, San?”

“Arya,” she hissed. “Did you see that smile she gave Jon when he handed her a beer?”

Robb blinked. “No.”

It was Sansa’s turn to roll her eyes. “You’re hopeless. Grab the oven mitts; you’re taking out the roast.”

xxxxxxxxx

“Neddy, you don’t have to wash your arms!” Lyanna exclaimed in horror as she watched her brother lathering up at the bathroom sink. 

“I got dirty on my arms though,” Ned said and looked up at Jon. 

“It’s fine, buddy,” Jon said as he yanked down the towel off the towel rack on the door. “You done, Lyanna?”

Lyanna nodded and Jon handed her the towel to dry off. When she was done, she handed Jon the towel and ran off. Arya leaned against the doorframe, arms folded across her chest. She patted Lyanna on the head as she passed by her. 

“I got everything wet, Jon,” Ned said a bit mournfully as he frowned at the counter and all the water on it near the sink. 

“Water can be cleaned up,” Jon told him. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ned dried his hands on the towel and ran out. 

“You’re really good with them,” Arya said as she watched Jon clean up around the sink. 

“They’re good kids,” Jon said. “Sansa is an amazing mother.”

“There isn’t much Sansa can do wrong,” Arya muttered. 

“Pardon?”

Robb came up beside Arya then and pointed at him, “Hey Jon, Arya and I were going to get a drink later at our local watering hole. You interested in joining us?”

Jon frowned as he wiped his hands on the towel. He was interested, considering this was the very thing he and Sansa had discussed that morning, but he hesitated. He wasn’t sure why. He was an adult, he could make his own decisions and yet… “Yeah, let me just find out if Sansa needs anything first.”

“Geez, Jon, it’s not like she’s your boss,” Arya said. 

Jon wanted to tell her he knew that, but the flash of irritation he felt at her comment prevented him from doing so. He didn’t want to snap at Arya. He liked her, she was quite witty and smart, but he didn’t care for the implication she’d just made. Either people thought he was trying to get Sansa into bed or they thought he was some kind of live-in babysitter. 

“Dinner!” Sansa bellowed from the kitchen. 

“Dinner,” Jon repeated and followed Robb and Arya to the dining room. 

Dinner went by without incident and after, while they were all pitching in to clear the table, Jon pulled Sansa aside and told her about Robb asking him if he wanted to get a beer with him and Arya. 

“Do you need help with anything tonight?” he asked. “If you do, I could stay.”

“Don’t be silly. You don’t have to run it by me, Jon.”

He frowned. “I know I don’t have to…but if you had something planned I didn’t want to bail on you.”

“I’m going to put the kids to bed early and then I’m probably going to put myself to bed early too. Go. Oh – and Arya really likes Sam Adams beer.”

Jon blinked. “Um. Ok?”

Sansa smiled and patted the side of his face. “Have fun.”

xxxxxxxxxx

“My sister really likes you!” Robb shouted above the music in the bar. Arya was off getting them a round since Robb had paid for the first one, and Jon the second. Though, Robb was now getting a water since he had driven them there, and was planning on driving them back. 

Jon didn’t really think he needed another since he was feeling pretty buzzed already – he had never been a heavy drinker to begin with. A beer here and there did him just fine, but he’d had a couple already before they’d left for the bar, so he was starting to feel a bit fuzzy in the head. 

“You should ask her out!” Robb continued as he snagged a handful of nuts sitting on the table they had claimed. 

The local watering hole was called just that – The Watering Hole – and it was pretty standard as bars went. The floor was littered with the shells of nuts that would send anyone with a nut allergy into a reaction, music pumped from an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner near the door, and there were a couple pool tables at the other end. The bar itself was long with people waving the bartender down for a drink. Robb explained that there were a lot of college kids on break there that night when Jon asked why it was so crowded on a Sunday. 

Jon stared at Robb, the words going round and round in his head. He felt his pulse quicken. “Your sister – she – what? Ask her out?”

“Yeah, why not? She’s not dating anyone. You seem like a really good guy despite what my mother thinks. I’d be okay with it. I mean, I would kick your ass if you hurt her, but—”

“She just lost her husband!”

Robb’s eyes went wide and he shook his head and then started laughing. “Not Sansa. Arya! You thought I meant Sansa?” He laughed again. 

Jon wasn’t finding it so funny. That little kick of…excitement? interest? was unnerving him. And he didn’t want to date Arya; he didn’t want to date anyone right now. 

Arya came back then, preventing further conversation on the topic and Jon ignored the nod and wink toward Arya. 

Jon shook his head and sipped his beer. His head was clear now, and pounding. What the fuck was that little jolt he’d felt when he thought Robb meant Sansa? He pushed his beer away from him. He needed to lay the fuck off. 

xxxxxx

Now that Jon knew Arya was interested, Jon couldn’t wait to get the hell out of the bar and go home. 

Home. 

He called Sansa’s house home. 

_Pod_ and Sansa’s house.

When had he started considering it home and not just the place he was temporarily shacking up?

He leaned his head back against the seat in the backseat of Robb’s car. Arya sat up in front with her brother. They were bickering over Robb’s choice of music and all Jon wanted was silence. His head was still throbbing and he found himself wondering if Sansa would be asleep when he got home. 

Home. 

There it was again. 

It was just a word, and the use of it meant nothing. It was bound to happen considering he was staying there and for God only knew how long. It didn’t mean anything. Just like it didn’t mean anything that he’d felt that spark of excitement earlier. 

He didn’t feel that way about Sansa. She was Pod’s wife and his friend. Only his friend. And, now, thinking back on their conversation before he’d left with Robb and Arya, he was pretty sure she had been trying to set him up with her sister. 

“You okay back there, lightweight?” Robb asked. 

Jon grunted. He just needed sleep. Water and sleep. He’d be fine in the morning with the effects of alcohol having worn off. 

In vino veritas. 

He snorted and thought, _Ridiculous._

“See? Even Jon thinks that album is a joke,” Arya said. 

Jon didn’t say a word, just shut his eyes and tuned them out. 

When they arrived at Sansa’s, Jon experienced the weirdness of having a woman walk him to the door. Arya walked him up, made sure he got his keys out, then smiled at him and said goodnight. 

Jon muttered goodnight and let himself inside the house. 

The house was dark except for a light on in the living room. His heart started to thump hard as he headed toward it, thinking he’d find Sansa still up. 

What the fuck was _wrong_ with him?

But she wasn’t there. 

He ignored the feeling of disappointment and headed to the kitchen to get some water and hunt down some ibuprofen before heading up to bed and getting some much needed sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there is some movement. Yay! LOL  
> I was despairing at the beginning and middle of the chapter that the plot would ever move forward. And I don't want it to LUNGE forward either.   
> But then Jon went and took me by surprise in this chapter with his reaction to what Robb said, and I went with it. Hopefully it wasn't too much.


	9. Chapter 9

Jon’s head didn’t hurt the next morning, but he did feel rather silly for all the importance he’d put on the misunderstanding with Robb. It was the alcohol that was all, and all the charged emotions since Pod had died. That was all it was. He didn’t feel anything more for Sansa than friendship and a kinship borne out of the fact that they were the two (adults) closest to Pod. 

Feeling better than he had last night when he’d sank down into his bed, Jon now dragged himself up. He could hear Sansa moving about as he did every morning. Slipping on his lounge pants over his boxers and a t-shirt, Jon used the bathroom connected to his bedroom, and emerged. 

He made his way down the stairs to get breakfast underway. Lyanna was the first one down and Jon simply pushed a glass of orange juice and a vitamin her way when she came up to the counter. He knew better now than to say “Good Morning”. Lyanna went to sit at the table, her head on the table and her eyes closed. _Poor kid,_ Jon thought wryly. Ned was down next, coming over to Jon to take his OJ and vitamin and ask what he could do to help. Jon had him butter the toast and Ned did so, humming happily as he worked. 

Sansa came down next and she grabbed her favorite blue earthenware mug to pour herself a cup of coffee. Jon flipped the eggs and wondered when he’d discovered that she favored that mug. 

“Did you have fun last night?” she asked as she came to stand beside him at the island where the griddle was. 

He looked up at her, at the knowing smirk on her face and the way her blue eyes shown with humor. “I did.”

He knew what she was looking for – some hint about Arya – but Jon wasn’t giving in. If she wanted information, she would have to ask him directly. 

“Anything interesting happen?” she asked over the mug. 

Jon shrugged. “We drank, talked – that was pretty much it.”

He was actually enjoying this despite the undercurrent of annoyance rippling through him. He wasn’t sure exactly why her trying to set him up annoyed him, but it did. Maybe because it made him wonder if she thought of him as some hopeless sod that couldn’t get a woman on his own. Or that perhaps she wanted to get rid of him for some reason? 

Had he been putting something out there that made her think he was desperately lonely or something? First it was Margaery, then she was pushing him to hang out with Robb, and now she was onto Arya. 

It would be awkward for him to date Arya. She was Sansa’s sister and if things went south, well, Jon didn’t plan on going anywhere. He wanted to remain close to Sansa and the kids, and having a relationship possibly end terribly wouldn’t be conducive to that. Besides, Mama Stark already disliked him for no apparent reason, and that would just give her another reason to be mistrustful. 

Sansa sighed the sigh of the exasperated. 

“Something wrong?” Jon asked. 

“Just – well – Arya seems to like you.”

“Yeah, I figured that out last night.”

She leaned closer, intrigued, and he caught a whiff of whatever it was she scented herself with. There were pockets of that scent in the house, nothing over-powering, but just enough, like a trail, telling him that Sansa had been in that room. 

“And?” she pressed. 

“And while I do like your sister, I don’t like her that way. Besides, it would be awkward if she and I started dating and it didn’t work out. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying here in Winterfell with you and the kids and I’m not going to make things awkward by dating your sister.”

Sansa leaned back, her eyes widening slightly. “Wow. Well, okay.”

“What?”

“You just seem a little…annoyed.”

He sighed and slipped a spatula under an egg and transferred it to a plate. He did the same for the next three eggs and then shut the griddle off and turned to Sansa. “I am a little annoyed. Am I giving something off that is making you think I need help with women? Or that I’m lonely? Or do you want to get rid of me?”

“Jon, no, that’s not – I just thought Arya is my sister and you’re my friend, and you guys seem to get along well… it just seemed, I don’t know, serendipitous?”

Jon rolled his eyes. “No wonder you and Pod ended up together. You’re both romantics.”

“Hey, now. Pod told me you knew how to woo a lady too.”

Jon laughed despite himself. “‘Woo a lady’? I’m sorry, when did we get into the Wayback Machine to the 1800s?”

Sansa laughed and pushed at him in the chest. “You’re a jerk.”

Jon grinned, his annoyance dissipating. “Look, let’s just assume that from here on out I can handle my own romantic affairs. If I choose to have them.”

She sighed. “All right, all right, all right. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you can’t, or that I want to get rid of you. I don’t. If anything, I’m already not sure what I’ll do when you leave.”

“Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“Neddy!” Lyanna exclaimed. “Stop buttering! There’s more butter than toast. Mo-om! Jon!”

And that was how the subject of Jon dating was dropped.

xxxxxxxx

Jon was working with Sandor on the extension when Sansa came home with the kids from therapy. She was carrying a big McDonald’s paper bag when she poked her head in and told them that she had food for them. 

Jon followed Sansa to the kitchen with Sandor following behind him. The kids were sitting at the kitchen table with Happy Meals. Ned looked fine, Lyanna looked a bit peeved, and Sansa looked done as she pulled out three large fries, and an assortment of hamburgers and a McChicken that she handed right to Sandor. 

“Thank you, Little Bird,” Sandor said softly. 

Sansa smiled at him. “You know where everything is, Sandor. Help yourself.”

Sandor nodded and went to the fridge, pulling out the ketchup. 

Jon grabbed a Big Mac and nudged Sansa with his arm. “How’d it go?” he asked quietly. 

“Ned colored, Lyanna wouldn’t talk,” she muttered as she pulled the fries out of the bag. “So, great.” 

“Hey,” he said and laid a hand on her arm. She looked up at him and he could see the frustration and worry in her eyes. He wanted to hug her but he and Sansa didn’t really do that. Only a handful of times since Pod died, and he felt sort of weird about it. Plus, he was afraid of what Sandor would say or assume if he did. Instead, he stroked her arm with his fingers gently. “It was their first time. Lyanna will open up once she realizes she doesn’t have a choice.”

Sansa nodded and he could see the tears welling in her eyes. “I just had this idea in my head of how it would go. That they’d just click with their therapists and want to keep going back.”

“Sansa, it was their first time.” 

“I know, I know. I just want assurance that I’m doing the right thing.”

“You are.”

She nodded again. 

“What did Ned say?”

“When I asked him if he liked his therapist he just shrugged. Lyanna said her therapist’s office smelled like tomato soup.”

Jon bit back a smile. “Of course she did.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “It was something Arya would have said.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“Will you do me a favor this weekend, Jon?”

“What’s that?”

“Will you help me clean out my closet with Pod’s things?”

He studied her, his jaw clenched. “You sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yes and no.”

He nodded. “Yes, I’ll help you,” he said hoarsely. 

“Where are the plates again, Little Bird?” Sandor asked, his McChicken already gone, the wrapper a wad in his hand that he dropped into the paper bag. He reached for a box of fries and stuffed a few in his mouth. 

“I’ll show him, San,” Jon said. “You wanna wash up?”

Sansa nodded, smiled gratefully at him, and headed for the bathroom. 

Jon turned and grabbed a plate from the cabinet above the dishwasher and when he handed it to Sandor, the other man had his brows raised knowingly. 

“What?” Jon asked irritably. 

Sandor didn’t reply, not right away, which just infuriated Jon. “It’s just you and the Misses have gotten pretty close, huh?”

“I live here for the time-being. I help with the kids. There was bound to be a closeness that developed between us,” Jon said tightly. 

“Looked a bit more than that.”

“Sansa just lost her husband, Sandor,” Jon ground out. “She’s not looking for anything like that.”

Sandor chuckled as he dumped the fries on the plate and then squirted a large dollop of ketchup next to them. “Funny that – I never said what I just witnessed was coming from her.” He stuffed a fry in his mouth. “As you said, she just lost her husband and probably isn’t interested in anything like that. Could be you are though.”

Sansa returned then, looking calmer and much more refreshed. “Don’t steal my fries, Sandor,” she teased as she grabbed a plate from the cabinet. 

Sandor kept his gaze on Jon who was glaring at him. “Wouldn’t dream of stealing what’s yours, Sansa.”

The other man sauntered off and if Jon didn’t need help so badly with that extension he might just tell Sandor to fuck off with his ‘observations’ and what he thought he knew. 

He considered asking Sandor how old he was and if he’d ever met Catelyn. Seemed to Jon the two of them would get along famously, especially when it came to judging him and his motives – of which there weren’t any aside from being there for the Payne family. 

“Beer, Jon?” Sansa asked from the fridge. 

Jon shook his head. “No. Water, please.”


	10. Chapter 10

_“I cannot believe you are going jogging in this heat,” Sansa said as she poured lemonade for herself and the kids. Usually Pod went jogging in the morning, but this morning he’d been busy fixing the kitchen sink._

_“It’s not that bad out,” Pod said, sitting at the kitchen table and pulling on his sneakers._

_“Didn’t I give you enough of a workout last night?” she teased._

_He grinned over at her. “I definitely reached target heart rate.”_

_Lyanna and Ned came barreling into the kitchen then and bee-lined for the lemonade. They had been playing outside together, running around the yard hollering about dragons and maidens, and evil kings._

_“Where’re you going, Daddy?” Ned asked his father between gulps of lemonade._

_Pod stood, his laces all tied and ruffled his son’s hair. “Going for a jog before lunch, Neddy.”_

_“Daddy, you promised to play cops and robbers with us after you were done with the sink!” Lyanna exclaimed._

_Pod frowned. “When I get back, Princess Lyanna, I promise to play cops and robbers with you.”_

_Lyanna scowled. “I wanted to play now!”_

_“Lyanna,” Sansa said warningly._

_With a harrumph, Lyanna marched off._

_Ned selected a banana from the fruit bowl and busied himself with that while Pod came over to Sansa, drew her into his arms, and kissed her sweetly. He feigned nervousness as shifted from foot to foot and shoved a hand through his short brown locks. “I don’t think I told you, but I, uh, wanted you to know that I had a really good time last night,” he said softly enough so that Ned didn’t hear. “I hope we can do it again. I mean, if you’re not busy or something later…”_

_Sansa giggled and draped her arms over his shoulders. “Oh, I think I might be able to free up some time for you, Mr. Payne.”_

_“That sounds pretty awesome, Mrs. Payne.”_

_“What did you and Mommy do last night that was so fun, Dad?” Ned asked._

_Sansa stifled a giggle, while Pod looked like a deer caught in the headlights. His dark eyes went wide. Then he grinned and turned to his son. “We played a really intense game of checkers.”_

_“Can we play checkers later too?” Ned asked._

_Pod coughed and laughed at the same time. “How about a different game? I don’t think I can quite think of checkers the same way again.”_

_Ned looked at his father in puzzlement. Pod just grinned at him, ruffled his hair, and then gave Sansa another kiss. He whistled as he strode to the front door. Once there, he called out, “I love you, Princess Lyanna!”_

_Sansa selected a piece of fruit for herself from the bowl, barely registering the open and shut of the door as Pod went on his run._

Tears streamed down Sansa’s face as she sat on her bed that following Saturday, staring at the open closet she and Pod had shared. 

She didn’t like to think of the day Pod was killed. In fact, she would do everything she could not to think about it because remembering last words and moments were just too hard. Plus, then, inevitably she’d have to play it all through to when she wondered why he was taking so long on his jog to when she heard the sound of sirens whizzing past her house. She remembered hoping that someone wasn’t seriously hurt, and then continued going on about her business. 

Then there was the knock at the door, and the cop on the other side. 

It took no time at all to tell her that Pod had been in an accident and it did not look good. 

She could still smell the sterile scent of the hospital when she’d rushed there, leaving the kids with her mom. 

He’d been broken and bloody and dead when she saw him. 

She remembered her legs collapsing under her and having the sense that this wasn’t real, that it was a dream and any second she would wake up. 

Someone had called Robb for her because they feared her driving. She’d sobbed in her brother’s arms in the middle of the hallway while nurses and doctors went to and fro by them. She’d begged Robb to wake her up and all Robb said, “I wish I could, honey.”

Telling the kids had been a nightmare. Lyanna had refused to believe it. She’d screamed at her mother, telling her she was lying. And Ned had just crumpled. When Lyanna had seen her brother lose it, she had too. 

“Sansa?”

Sansa wiped at her eyes as she looked toward the door. Jon was standing there, filling up the doorway. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she said quickly. 

“You’re not okay,” he practically growled as he stepped inside. He grabbed a box of tissues off her bureau and came over to sit beside her. He handed her a few tissues and she took them gratefully. 

“Sansa, we don’t have to do this today,” Jon said gesturing to the closet. 

“I was remembering that day,” she said and blew her nose loudly. She wadded up the tissue and flung it behind her on the bed. 

Jon looked down and sighed. “I can’t even imagine what that was like.”

“Awful. The worst day of my life. I can’t tell you how many times I kept thinking I was stuck in some dream. Even when the kids and I went home that night from my Mom’s, I kept thinking Pod would be there. That he’d be in the kitchen making a sandwich and asking where the hell I’d been all day. When he wasn’t there, I came up here and looked for him. I must have looked like a madwoman.”

“I think that is a normal reaction,” Jon murmured. 

“I haven’t really allowed myself to think about that day. It felt like I was reliving it all over again and so I would stop myself before I could get too far. Have you ever done that?”

“Of course.”

Sansa grabbed another tissue from where Jon held between his knees. “It’s quiet in the house without the kids, huh?”

“Sansa, you don’t have to change the subject. I’m okay with you crying. I’m okay with talking about it. Maybe if you told me what happened it would help.”

Fresh tears gathered in her eyes, blurring her vision. “It was just – we were happy – and Lyanna – I forgot that she’d been mad at him before he’d left and now I wonder if she forgot that and if she didn’t, what did it to her?”

Jon put the box of tissues on the bed and turned in to face her. He took her hand and squeezed. “Can you start from the beginning, San?” he asked softly. 

She did, and by the end of it she was sobbing into his shoulder and his strong arms were wrapped tightly around her, one hand at the back of her head. 

She registered his breath in her hair and wondered if he’d kissed her temple. Meanwhile, she had his shirt in fists in her hands. Slowly, she loosened her grip and pulled back until his hand dropped to her forearm. “I snotted on your shirt,” she said with a little laugh. 

“It’s fine.”

She looked up at him and realized he had tears falling down his face. “Oh, Jon,” she said sadly. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “We’re grieving. Grieving can include crying.”

Sansa grabbed a tissue and dabbed at the tears on his face the way she would do for Ned or Lyanna. Jon surprised her by gripping her wrist. She looked at him, startled, and her eyes collided with his. He had the oddest look on his face. The word that came to mind was intense, but she didn’t know _why_ he was looking at her that way, or even what that look _meant._

He released her and stood up as if the bed was on fire. “I’m just going to throw some cold water on my face and we can start if you want,” he mumbled. 

“Jon, are you okay?”

He nodded, his eyes shutting briefly. He looked down at her, his expression sad now. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Did I do something wrong?” 

He shook his head. “No, Sansa. God, no. I guess I just got…overwhelmed.” He laughed a bit darkly. “As much as I tell you to let it all out and that keeping it in is not healthy, I do the same. It just bowled me over there for a minute.”

She nodded. “I understand.” She gestured to the closet. “Are you sure you’re up to this today?”

“Yes, I am. I think it will help in some way. Almost as if seeing his things go will be a release…? Does that make sense?”

More tears surfaced. “Yes. Even though I don’t feel quite ready to let him go…I know I have to do this before I just won’t.”

He reached out and gripped her shoulder. “I’ll be here to help every step of the way.”

She put her hand over his and tried for a smile. “Thank you.”

He nodded, looked at her as though he was trying to puzzle something together, and then left the room. 

Sansa stood with a sigh, already feeling weary, and started to pull the items from the shelf in the closet. 

xxxxxx

“What do you mean Pod didn’t have fashion sense?” Jon laughed as he reached into a box and picked up a ball cap with plush stuffed hands. He put the cap on and pulled the string dangling by his head, causing the hands to clap. 

Sansa erupted into giggles, dropping the shirt that had the outline of a tux on it in a box. It was a shirt she’d banned to the depths of the closet when they’d first moved in together. “He brought that to Lyanna’s preschool graduation. She couldn’t stop laughing. Now she would say how uncool he was and that he was embarrassing, but all two years ago when she wasn’t a teenager, she thought it was great.”

Jon laughed and pulled the hat off his head, tossing it in the box that sat between Sansa’s legs on the floor. He sat down beside her, his back against the bed and they both looked up at the closet now bare of Pod’s things. 

“All done,” he murmured. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, staring at the emptiness of the closet. “It only took us three hours.”

“Well, we did break for lunch. And we shared some stories, which was nice.”

“And it is a deep closet. I mean, I thought we might find the doorway to Narnia at one point.”

Jon laughed, his eyes crinkling as he looked over at her. Sansa could understand why Arya and Margaery found him so handsome. He really was, and after getting to know him better, she thought him even better looking. He was such a sweet guy, and a wonderful friend and Godfather. He would make some woman very happy one day, Sansa decided. 

“You know what I think?” he asked. 

“Tell me,” she said with a smile. 

“I think I should take the boxes with the clothes to my car to donate to Goodwill.”

“I’m with you.”

“And then the rest of it I can take up to the attic.”

“Okay.”

“Then, since your Mom has the kids for the night, we should go out. You haven’t been out since….”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh. “Since…”

“And I think we could both use a drink.”

“Or twenty. Maybe we could ask Arya and Robb to join us?”

“Or just Robb,” Jon said smoothly. 

Sansa laughed. “Fair enough.”

He grinned. “Yeah? That all sounds good?”

She nodded. “It really does. I could use some new scenery. It’s been this house and work. Plus, a drink sounds like _exactly_ what I need.”

Getting to his feet, Jon pushed the box that was between Sansa’s legs away and held out his hand. She took it and he helped her to feet. “You call Robb,” he said, “While I take care of these boxes. Let’s say a couple hours? Give us time to shower?”

She nodded, beaming at him. 

He smiled, his eyes crinkling again, and then, to her surprise, he hugged her. She and Jon had hugged a few times, but this hug was different. It was support. It was friendship. It was saying we got through this together and we have each other’s backs. It felt like the start of something, an understanding, a growing bond strengthened…it just felt _different._

“Thank you, Jon,” she whispered, thinking how nice he smelled. 

“Anytime,” he whispered back and then squeezed her quickly before letting go, grabbing a box, and heading out the door. 

Sansa stood there for a bit after he’d walked out, just smiling. Cleaning the closet had started out a bit rocky, but it had ended with her feeling - dare she even think it – a bit of peace. 

And, she could not dwell on that too much lest she feel guilty, so she went to her phone to call Robb instead.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa's outfit:  
> [](http://s1132.photobucket.com/user/Janina44/media/outfit_zpsnpunqy8l.jpg.html)
> 
> Thank you, qinaliel for helping me with that!

Jon had wanted to kiss Sansa. And it had been close. He almost had. 

She'd fallen apart in his arms after telling him about the day Pod - her _husband_ and his _best friend_ \- had died, and then she'd gone and wiped his tears away to comfort him. Part of him thought it was such a goddamn sweet thing to do and the other part felt like she was treating him like one of the kids, and she'd been so close and smelled so good...

And they were grieving, damn it, they were both grieving and she was so beautiful when she allowed herself to be vulnerable in front of him. 

Sansa Payne was a strong, brave, intelligent, sweet, witty, and kind woman. She was also a great Mom. She could be frustratingly stubborn at times, and had a hard time asking for help, but those were really his only complaints. 

Oh, yes, and she was beautiful. So achingly beautiful with those big blue eyes and that rosebud mouth and all that red hair he thought about gripping in his hands—

Jesus fuck. He had to stop. She was his best friend's wife for fuck's sake. What was he doing? What was he _thinking?_

"I'm sorry, Pod," he muttered as he loaded the boxes with Pod's clothes in the trunk of his car. Tears stung his eyes - what kind of friend was he? Jon leaned back against his car and stared out across the street, arms folded across his chest. He wiped at the tears that fell and heaved in a shuddering breath. _I know you told me to look after Sansa and the kids, Pod,_ Jon thought. _You even told me to marry her. I never took that seriously. I knew I had to come here and help them, but I never planned to marry her. I never planned to..._

He couldn't even finish the thought. To finish it would be to admit it, and he could not and would not admit it. 

_I'm not marrying her,_ he thought. _I'm not doing anything at all like that with her, okay? I'm here to help and I'll even find a place close by when I am done with that goddamn extension, but I am not going to do anything with your wife._

Resolute, Jon made his way back to the house to clean up the rest of the boxes and prepare for the night out. _Maybe_ , he thought, _it wouldn't be such a bad idea if I considered dating someone..._

xxxxxxx 

Jon wasn’t sure why he thought going out was such a good idea. He’d had the purest of intentions – get Sansa out of the house and give her a change of scenery. A night without the kids meant she should not be staying at home and allowing her grief to get the better of her. It was still going to be there when she got home. She needed to have some fun, needed to be out with other adults, and spending time with him outside of the house and her brother seemed like a great idea. 

Except that outfit she was wearing was making it difficult not to look at her. It was some kind of floral one piece with shorts that looked like a skirt and had some kind of lacy thing around her middle that showed just hints of her flat stomach. 

Her legs went on _forever._

And she was wearing more makeup than he’d ever seen her wear. It didn’t look overdone though, not in the least – it was sexy. That was the problem. 

Every guy in the joint was following her with their eyes and Jon wanted to punch each and every single one. He knew exactly what they were thinking. His own mind had drifted there more than once before he’d mentally flagellated himself. 

As a result, tonight he was drinking less beer and more water. Robb had gave him crap for that, but Jon didn’t care. He remembered well the last time he had gone out with Robb and had started to…feel things. And think things. 

Besides, this gave Sansa the freedom to drink however much she wanted. It was important to him that she have a good time. He just hoped she wouldn’t turn into one of those sobbing drunks when she had too much. He wasn’t sure he could handle a sobbing Sansa tonight. He felt wound tighter than a drum as it was. It wasn’t like he could tell her not to cry on his shoulder. He would never tell her she couldn’t. 

“Jon!” Sansa said and clinked her fruity drink against his water glass somewhat sloppily. She grinned at him, clearly buzzing. “Smile!” 

He smiled and looked away from her. It was all he wanted to do – look at her, that is – but it was hard to do at the moment when she looked so beautiful. 

“So, tell me again why I couldn’t call Arya?” Robb asked with a knowing grin at Jon. 

Jon frowned and looked at Sansa. “You told him I said not to call her?” 

Now Sansa frowned. “I had to tell him something. You don’t know Robb well enough yet. He wouldn’t have stopped badgering you - or me – until we told him why.” 

“She’s right,” Robb said unapologetically. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me, though I can’t say I’m not a little disappointed. You’d be good for my baby sister, Jon.” 

Jon darted a glance at Sansa who was bopping her head to the music. 

She pushed away from the table and pointed to the jukebox in the corner of the room. “I think I’m going to play something. Robb, do you have any quarters?” 

Robb rolled his eyes, but then dug into his pocket and pulled out seventy-five cents. “Don’t play something sappy and lame.” 

“Something sappy and lame, got it,” Sansa said. 

“Sansa,” Robb said warningly. 

“I got it, Robb! Geez! I’ll play some Celine Dion, I know she’s your favorite, you don’t have to hound me about it!” Sansa said loud enough for a few tables around them to hear. Including a table full of women that Robb had been eyeing since they’d arrived. 

He shook his head in their direction and mouthed “No, no” and then glared at Sansa. 

Sansa smiled devilishly and sauntered off. Jon laughed under his breath. So there was a mischievous side to Sansa that he had not known about. Robb shook his head, muttering under his breath, but there was a sparkle in his eye that told Jon he wasn’t really upset with his sister. 

“This is good for her, ya know?” Robb said and took a sip of his beer. 

“I know,” Jon said, keeping himself facing Robb. He was not going to turn around. She was a big girl; she could take care of herself. She did not need him watching her like a hawk on the chance that some asshole could approach her. 

“So why don’t you want to date Arya?” Robb asked. 

Jon laughed nervously. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” 

“What’s the point?” Robb asked with a shrug. 

Jon nodded slowly and turned his glass of water on the table in circles. “I don’t want to make things awkward for the family,” he said. “I don’t want to make it weird for Sansa, and your Mom already hates me.” 

“Sansa ever tell you about her relationship with Arya?” 

Jon shook his head. “No, but I get the feeling from a few of Arya’s comments that it’s not the best?” 

“No. Those two can be like oil and water. Arya laid off of her after Pod died, but that just means she stays even further away than normal.” 

That rather…angered Jon. “Isn’t that kind of a shitty thing to do to a sibling? I mean, Sansa just lost her husband. Arya’s niece and nephew just lost their father. Shouldn’t she be there for Sansa?” 

“If Sansa asked, Arya would be there.” 

“Sansa is not the best at asking for help. It was a wonder she even asked me to help her clean out the closet they shared today.” 

Robb studied him thoughtfully. “She trusts you to do those things with her because you were his best friend.” 

_Some best friend I am_ , Jon thought guiltily, thinking of that almost-kiss. 

“We all liked Pod, and we were close in our own way, but outside of Sansa it’s obvious you knew him the best. I think Sansa’s bonded to you because of that.” A beat. “And because you’re living there right now and helping out with everything.” 

“I’m trying,” Jon mumbled. 

“You’re a good guy, Jon,” Robb said, smiling at him. 

_No, I’m not,_ Jon thought forlornly. _If you knew how I almost kissed her today you wouldn’t think so._

Sansa came rushing up to them then and slung her arm through Jon’s as she peered behind him. She turned to look at him and her brother, her nose wrinkled in disgust. 

“What’s wrong?” Jon asked. 

“Some creep approached me at the jukebox,” she said with a shudder. “He made off like he was trying help me pick songs, but he was in my personal space.” 

Jon’s jaw clenched and he turned to face the room. “Who was it?” 

“Forget it. I handled it,” Sansa said dismissively. “Robb! You said you were going to get me another drink!” 

Robb blinked. “No, I didn’t.” 

“Yes, you did! Jon, didn’t Robb say he was going to get me another drink?” 

Jon had to work on keeping a straight face. “He did.” 

Robb rolled his eyes. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered and headed to the bar. 

Sansa laughed and smiled at Jon. She held out her hand for a handshake and Jon took it. “Well played,” she said and gave him one good firm shake. Her skin was soft. 

“I think I might actually get a drink after all,” Jon mumbled. “When Robb comes back I’ll get one.” 

But Sansa wasn’t listening to him, she was already humming along to the song playing and scanning the crowd again. 

xxxxxxxx 

Jon had one more beer to Sansa’s three before they ended up leaving. Robb had one more as well, making it a total of two he’d had. Sansa was definitely drunk. Jon learned something else about her: she was a lightweight. 

She hugged her brother in the parking lot for a long time – actually it was more that she was hanging off of him and telling him how he had always been her favorite. Robb, Jon could tell, was half-amused and half-touched, even if she was drunk and who knew if it was true. Though, Jon had a feeling it was. 

_In vino veritas and all that shit though, right?_ he thought bitterly, remembering the last time he’d been drunk. 

“You promise you’re not drunk?” Sansa asked her brother, wagging a finger at him. 

Robb held up his hand. “Scout’s honor. I’m not even buzzed.” 

Then Sansa rounded on Jon. “And you?” 

"Not even buzzed,” Jon said. And that was the truth. 

Finally, Robb managed to shove Sansa in Jon’s car and told her to buckle in before shutting the door. Robb clapped Jon on the back. “Good luck with that one,” he said. “She’s an affectionate drunk.” 

“I see,” Jon said with a little laugh. “Night, man.” 

“Night.” 

Robb jogged off to his car and Jon went to the driver’s side and climbed in. Sansa was trying to buckle, but wasn’t finding success. 

“Help,” she pleaded. “I can’t get it in.” Then she laughed. “That’s what she said!” 

Jon shook his head and smiled at her. “How old are you right now?” 

“As old as Lyanna. But I’m actually seven going on eight. Not seven going on seventeen.” 

Jon chuckled and batted Sansa’s hands away so he could buckle her in. She watched him, her head bent toward his and when he looked up at her, he was startled to find that they were a lot closer than he’d thought. He could see the flecks of navy in her eyes. He could see a few freckles across her nose. He could smell the mint she’d had inside on her breath. 

Sansa’s expression softened and it was as though she looked over every inch of his face. Her mouth drew up into a soft smile and then she bridged the distance between them and pressed her lips against his. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I've read a few fics lately with Sansa scaring the shit out of Jon. The image of it makes me laugh so I could not resist. :)

She was kissing him. 

Sansa was kissing him. 

Her soft lips were pressed against his. 

Oh, right! He had to kiss back. 

He had just tipped his head to the side to fit his lips better against hers when Sansa ripped hers away from him, leaving Jon feeling a bit disoriented. 

She turned her face away and sat back in the seat. She bent her head, practically hunching herself down as though trying to make herself small, and her hair covered her face. Her shoulders started to shake. 

She was crying. Even before the sound of it hit his ears, Jon knew she was crying. He swallowed hard. "Sansa," he croaked. 

"I can't believe I did that!" she said mournfully. "I don't even know why I did that!" She shook her head, still keeping her face hidden by her hair. "It was just that I had such a good time tonight, and I am so grateful for all that you've done for me, and so relieved that you were there to help me clean out my closet. I've been feeling so lonely and missing Pod..." She cried harder. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

Of course she felt ashamed for having kissed him, and now that Jon was getting his wits back, the guilt he'd been carrying around all day multiplied. He'd wanted that kiss. He still wanted that kiss despite knowing he shouldn't.

But this was not about him right now. He would deal with the things he wanted and could not and should not want later. Right now, he needed to help Sansa through this. She was on the verge of hysteria. 

"Sansa, stop. It's understandable."

She whipped her head to look at him, incredulous. " _Understandable?_ What is _understandable_ about kissing my husband's best friend?"

"You're drunk," he said, because it was the first thing that came to mind. "You're not thinking clearly. You were feeling good; you'd had fun tonight. You said it all yourself - you were feeling all sorts of things and you feel grateful, as you said, and probably close to me--"

"I do feel close to you and now I've gone and ruined it!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up. 

Jon reached out and gripped her hands. "No, you didn't," he said, a bit more vehemently than he'd wanted. "You haven't ruined anything. I understand why, Sansa, and it's okay."

She looked at him tears in her eyes and she shook her head. "No, it's not okay. I just cheated on my husband."

Jon struggled to hold back his own tears. What was it about this woman that completely wrecked him every time she was in pain? 

"He would understand," Jon said softly. "He loved us, remember? We were the two closest people to him. He would understand."

"I just want to go home," she whispered. "Just take me home, please."

The car ride home was quiet. Sansa kept her head turned away from him and Jon began to feel incredibly awkward. As though her kissing him was his fault in some way. He felt at a complete loss. Did he try to talk to her about it again, or did he just let her be. 

In the end, he let her be. She jumped out of the car as though it was on fire when they got home, and after a quick trip to the kitchen for water and aspirin, she went upstairs. Jon sat in the living room, alone, not knowing what to do. 

xxxxx

When Sansa woke up the next morning, her mouth dry, and a slight throbbing in her head, she immediately reached for the glass of water on her nightstand. 

She hadn't forgotten what she'd done; she just didn't know what to do about it. She wished like hell she could be one of those people that forgot what they'd done when they were drunk, but she wasn't that lucky. 

She'd kissed Jon. Good God, she had kissed Jon. 

She sat back up against the headboard, her gaze drifting to the shut closet. The closet she'd cleared of Pod's things. She'd cleaned the closet and then kissed Jon. 

She started to cry, tears streaming down her face. She didn't want Jon to hear her, so she tried to keep it in as best she could, but it was useless. She did that thing where she tried to suck in air and it came out loud. She grabbed a pillow and covered her face lightly. She sobbed into it, her shoulders shaking, her nose snotting - it was an ugly cry, no doubt about it. 

She was going to dehydrate herself at this point - and she'd already felt like she could have stuck her mouth under a running faucet when she woke up. 

She thought about staying in her bedroom all day and hiding, but that wasn't practical. The kids would be home in a couple hours, and she couldn't avoid Jon forever. She had to face this. She would apologize to him and then put it behind her, and hope he was able to put it behind him as well. And then later she was going to go to the cemetery to visit Pod. She’d gone a few times since he’d been buried, but she hadn’t been in the past month and she felt guilty for that. Yet, she rather felt at the same time that if she wanted to talk to Pod, she didn’t need to go to his grave to do it. She could just talk to him, and sometimes she did. Especially when Lyanna was giving her a hard time. 

When her tears stopped, Sansa moved the pillow off her face and forced herself out of bed. She went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. 

Time to face the day. 

xxxxxx

A half an hour later, dressed and ready to face Jon, Sansa made her way down to the kitchen. She was nervous, and hated that she felt this way. She wanted to pretend it didn’t happen; wanted to just shove it under the rug and not have to have a talk about it. God, she wished she could just be that drunk that forgot the stupid things they did. 

Jon was at the counter making coffee when she entered the kitchen. Fingering the hem of her shirt with both hands like, well, Neddy when he was nervous, Sansa forced herself to drop her arms to her sides. She cleared her throat and said, “Jon.”

She scared him. He jumped a mile and the mug she didn’t know he had in his hand arched up into the air and then slammed down on the floor. It shattered just as Jon spun around, his eyes comically wide and his mouth open. 

Sansa slapped a hand over her mouth as laughter threatened to escape. Jon shut his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. “You scared the crap out of me,” he muttered. 

“I’m sorry,” she said behind her hand, still trying not to laugh. A snort escaped. 

Jon narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you laughing at me?”

She shook her head and another snort escaped. 

“You are!” he exclaimed. 

She doubled over with laughter, moving her hand off her face. “The look on your face! The mug went flying!” She mimed the trajectory of the mug and laughed even harder. 

Jon glared at her, but she could see his mouth twitching. He was trying not to laugh too. 

“You kind of suck, you know that?” he asked conversationally. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to contain her laughter. 

He laughed now too. “No, you’re not.”

“Oh, I’m really not because that was classic.”

He shoved some glass out of his way with his socked feet and Sansa held up her hands. “Wait. Don’t move. Let me get the broom.”

Jon watched her go to the closet to get the broom and dustpan, and then he watched her sweep up the glass. He wasn’t sure if he should say something or wait for her to say it. Maybe she didn’t remember kissing him. Maybe they didn’t have to talk about it at all. 

But could he actually do that to her? It would feel too much like a betrayal, and he didn’t want to do anything to break her trust in him. They’d gone past the point now of Jon just being Pod’s friend, and by extension, hers. She was his friend in her own right – confusing and unwanted feelings for her notwithstanding. 

When the glass was swept up and thrown away, and the broom back in the closet, he saw the look on her face and knew she remembered and wanted to talk about it. He waited, letting her take the lead. 

“Jon, about last night,” she began. “I’m really sorry.”

He shook his head. “I told you; you have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Oh, but I do,” she said with a nervous laugh. “I crossed a line and put you in an odd position…”

“What position was that?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 

“Your Pod’s best friend,” she said as if to say – did you really just ask me that?

This was true. He was. And his best friend’s wife had kissed him and Jon had wanted more. It was a kiss that wasn’t really a kiss. She’d ended it before he could even fully respond, and yet it was all he could think about. 

He hadn’t considered she might think she’d put him in an awkward position since he was already in an awkward position of his own making. However…what was really all that awkward about it since Pod was dead? It wasn’t as though they had to confess, though Jon had to admit he’d been confessing his sins all night to his best friend. 

He’d been hoping to feel absolved when he woke up that morning. He hadn’t. 

“As I said last night,” she continued, “I’ve been feeling lonely. We had just cleaned out the closet and I was having a good time with you and Robb, and I am just so grateful for everything you’ve done to help me and the kids out. Add liquor into the mix and that’s what happened. So, I kissed you, it meant nothing, and now we can just put it behind us and move on. Right?”

He found himself studying her looking for signs of…of what? Of her not wanting to actually put it behind them? Of feelings that she struggled with too? But all he saw was worry and he decided to put her out of her misery. “Of course.”

Her shoulders relaxed instantly and her smile came easy and bright. “Great. Did you eat yet?”

He shook his head, feeling rather frustrated. What was it going to take to make these unwanted feelings go away? 

“I want tons of bacon and sausage. Want to make scrambled eggs while I take care of the rest?” she asked. 

He nodded. “Sure.”

She frowned and reached out, putting a hand on his arm. “We’re really okay?”

Her touch felt like fire singeing his skin and he had to keep himself from jerking away. He smiled as best he could. “Of course.”

She smiled again and moved her hand off of him. “I think before the kids get here I’m going to visit Pod’s grave for a bit. Will you be here in case they are early?”

He nodded, feeling at a loss for words. She wanted to go to Pod’s grave and absolve herself of her sin. God, now he felt worse. 

He was angry with himself for these unwanted feelings, and he was angry with Pod for that stupid contract, for extracting that stupid promise from him, and most of all for being fucking dead. Jon wouldn’t be standing there staring at the freckle he could see on her collarbone and wondering where else she had one if Pod was still alive. He’d be in Portland doing his thing, maybe even dating someone again by now. 

Instead, he was in the house Sansa had shared with Pod, in the kitchen where Pod and Sansa and their kids had meals together, looking at her and feeling things he had no business fucking feeling. 

“Jon, are you okay?” she asked, tiling her head to the side. 

“I just need to wash my hands,” he said stiffly and forced himself to walk, not run, to the bathroom. He washed his hands, splashed some cool water on his face, and looked at himself in the mirror. 

_Get your shit together,_ he scolded himself. _She’s your best friend’s wife._

And then the little voice in his head, the evil part of himself, whispered: _Your best friend is dead now, Jon._


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly getting back into the swing of things. My sister passed away this week so I've not been around much to read updates and the like. I'm slowly starting to catch up on all I missed.

All Sansa wanted after The Kiss was for things to go back to normal with Jon. And they had. Sort of. Outwardly at least. They still acted the same around each other, at least she thought so. He did seem quieter than usual, but she tried to tell herself that she had nothing to do with that. It was just Jon being his broody, artistic self. Plus, it didn’t help that some progress on the addition had been impeded by moldy wood. 

It was Sansa’s insides that was not back to normal. Though, quite frankly, her normal was already not exactly normal. Not for her anyway. Her normal was a busy family and bakery. Her new normal was being without a husband and raising their kids on her own, and Jon. Not that she had ever truly gotten used to that new normal, but it was better than this odd feeling she’d been having ever since she and Jon had agreed to forget about it and she’d ruled it a drunken thing that meant nothing. 

This little itty bitty voice in her head kept asking her if it really meant nothing after all. Because she couldn’t stop looking at him. Or wondering what he really thought about it. If he thought less of her in some way, or even if he liked it. How could he have liked it though, and why was she even wondering if he did? She’d pretty much already made up her mind that he had been a good sport about something that had probably appalled him. Besides, wondering about whether or not a man who was not her husband liked her kiss was going down a path she wasn’t comfortable going down. 

Noticing his defined abs and muscled arms was also going down a path. But then how could she help it when he worked on the addition with his shirt off? Sandor did too and he was just as muscley, but…

But Jon. 

She kept herself away from him when he rid himself of his shirt and sent Ned or Lyanna in to ask if they wanted something to drink or to munch on. 

She told herself it had just been a while. She and Pod’s sex life had been up and down over the years. Pre-kids, they went at it like rabbits. Post kids, not so much. At least not when the kids were younger. As they got a bit older though, their sex life had gotten better. They didn’t go at it like rabbits anymore, but they did have sex regularly – at least once or twice a week. She could just imagine Margaery thinking that was awful, but when one had their own business and two kids, that seemed about right for Sansa. 

She missed the solidity of Pod in their bed. She missed the little touches, kisses, and caresses they shared when they were in the same room together. She missed their talks before bed about the kids or whatever was going on. Those talks happened with Jon, though admittedly less after the kiss. But still, it wasn’t like lying together or sitting up together in bed and knowing that at any minute you could reach over and touch or be touched. 

She missed Pod. She missed having that connection to him. She wasn’t looking to replace him – God, no – but she wished she didn’t feel so adrift. She went through the motions; she had a routine. Wake up, get the kids ready for Rec, go to work, come home, spend time with the kids, catch up with Jon, go to bed and miss miss miss Pod. Wash, rinse, repeat. 

She felt numb a lot of the time and wondered if this was it. If this was going to be her life from now on. Shouldn’t there be ups and downs? Not to say she didn’t have her downs, she did – but aside from the night she, Robb, and Jon went out, there was no up. 

The big things had been done. The will settled. The closet cleaned out. She’d systematically taken Pod’s name off all the bills, accounts, and the deed to the house. The only thing left was his truck. It still sat in the garage, not having been used at all since Pod last used it. 

She was pondering what was to be done about the truck while preparing lunches for the kids when Jon ambled into the kitchen, freshly showered. His hair was wet, he wore lounge pants and a t-shirt, and something decidedly masculine wafted off of him. 

He stood across the island watching her. “Whatcha thinking about?” he asked. 

“You can tell I’m thinking something?” she asked with a smile. 

“You’ve been quiet all night. What’s up?”

“The truck. I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it. It’s not like Lyanna is going to be ready for it for a good long time and it can’t just sit in the garage forever.”

“Sell it,” Jon said simply. “Or you could always keep it in the event something happens and you need it. It must be great in the winter, better than your car.”

Sansa nodded as she zipped up Lyanna’s lunch container. “It is. Pod was always getting on me to get a truck.”

“Well, there’s your answer.”

She sighed. “I guess. I just haven’t been able to even step into the thing.”

“I could do it with you,” Jon said softly. “So you don’t have to do it alone.”

Sansa was tempted to take him up on the offer. He’d helped her with the closet, and had been a great source of comfort and support. Later, she had twisted the gratitude she’d felt for him and all he’d done and been doing, and kissed him. 

She didn’t want to do something like that again. She feared turning friendship and his help into something else. Not only was she not ready for something like that – and she doubted she ever would be – it was also not fair to Jon. She didn’t want to put him in the position of feeling as though he was betraying his best friend. She also didn’t want to put herself in the position of feeling as though she was betraying her husband. 

In short, logically she knew she was feeling vulnerable still. And when one was vulnerable, one sometimes did things that were out of character. Like kiss your husband’s best friend. And eye him without his shirt on. 

She had to stand on her own two feet because Jon’s presence wasn’t going to last forever. Nor should it. He had a life to start, get back to – whatever it was he planned to do. He said he wanted to stay in Winterfell, but Sansa wasn’t going to bet on it. 

In life, you couldn’t really bet on anything, could you? 

“I can do it,” she said simply. “I just have to work up to it is all.”

Jon pursed his lips together and she could tell that now he was thinking something. But, instead of questioning it, she brought up her next order of business. 

“So, school starts in a few weeks,” she said after placing Ned and Lyanna’s lunch boxes in the fridge. 

Jon looked startled. “Oh, does it?”

She nodded. “And Pod and I had started a tradition a few years ago where we would have an end of the summer barbecue in August. We’d invite family, friends, neighbors—”

“Aren’t neighbors friends too?” Jon asked with a grin. 

She smiled. “I suppose they are, smart ass.”

He laughed and plucked a few grapes out of the fruit bowl in the middle of the island. He tossed a few in his mouth and munched on them. “You need help grilling?”

“Well, Robb and Pod would usually do it. You don’t have to help. You don’t even have to be here if you don’t want to be. However, since Ned’s birthday is so close to the day of the barbecue, I am going to throw him a little surprise party and have cake and his presents—”

“Sansa,” he said and put his hands back on the counter. He looked a bit peeved now, his jaw clenching tight and his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why wouldn’t I want to come to the barbecue?”

She shrugged. “It might not be your thing. I don’t know. Just because you live here doesn’t mean you have to partake in everything we do.”

“I know that,” he said softly. “Has it occurred to you that I might want to?”

Well now she felt rather stupid. She felt her face start to redden. 

“I wouldn’t miss Ned’s birthday, and I want to be here for the barbecue. I even want to help.”

She wasn’t saying a word. In fact, she looked caught. _Yeah, Sansa,_ he thought. _I’m onto you. I know exactly what you’re doing._

Ever since that kiss she’d been distant. Dodgy. She didn’t ask him for help. She had even asked Catelyn to pick up Ned, who hadn’t been feeling well, from Rec and stay with him until she got home instead of asking him. He would have done it, and Sansa knew it. He knew she would have asked him to do it if that kiss hadn’t happened. He’d taken Ned to the dentist once for her once already so there was no reason she couldn’t have asked him. 

Was it possible, he wondered, that Sansa felt more for him than just gratitude? Or was her guilt over the kiss eating her alive and she thought it best to distance herself from him? In wondering if she was catching feelings, was he hoping that was the case?

The answer would remain unspoken and not thought. 

He was about to call her out on her behavior in a more direct manner when she blurted out, “When is your birthday, Jon?”

He blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “September.”

“The date?”

“The fifteenth.”

Her pale pink lips curved into a smile. “You’re a Virgo. I should have known.”

He narrowed his eyes, his lips quirking into a smile of his own. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“It’s not bad. You’re very detail-oriented, just like a Virgo. And neat. You always put your tools away at night and don’t just toss your clothes on the floor in the bathroom. Plus, I’ve seen how neat you keep your bedroom.”

He shrugged. “I don’t want to be a slob here. You keep me fed. It’s the least I can do.”

She frowned. “Are you saying you’re actually a slob?”

He chuckled. “No. But I’m less conscious of being so neat.”

That looked like it upset her to hear. She looked positively deflated. “Are you uncomfortable here?”

Jon could have laughed. She was afraid to let him too close – and possibly afraid that she already had – and yet she was afraid he was too distant. She didn’t want him to be a guest but she also wanted to keep him in that role. Did Sansa know at all what she wanted? 

And while he was on the topic – did he? Because he found himself torn between keeping her close and keeping her at a distance. There was a closeness missing between them ever since that kiss and he wanted it back. At the same time he thought the distance best. 

But he missed her. He saw her every day, but he missed her. They still had their evening chats, but less so now. Sansa didn’t sit with him for long. No more shared laughter over a glass of wine and a bottle of beer. No more feeling as though he was actually part of something in this great big house with this family. He was beginning to feel like a _guest_ again. 

“Sometimes,” he said. “Lately.”

He said it without saying it, and knew that she caught on by the sharp intake of breath. She cleared her throat. “Well, we should fix that then.”

He cocked his head to the side. “What do you propose?”

She bit her lip and looked around the kitchen as though searching for the answer. Then she turned towards the fridge and opened it. She pulled out a half-full bottle of wine and placed it on the counter followed by a bottle of beer. “Have a drink with me?” she asked. She actually looked and sounded somewhat afraid that he might say no. 

She was so adorable. 

Jon ducked his head and grinned. “Of course.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for your condolences. :)  
> Thank you qinaliel for your help with this!

Sansa was letting him get closer; the wall was coming down. Slowly, but surely. Jon, ever at war with himself, found himself pushing to get closer to her, for her to let him in, even while he told himself to stop.

He teased her, telling himself that he was not flirting. She teased him back. And he knew that she was not flirting.

He helped her plan the barbecue. He even helped her shop for Ned’s birthday presents. He made himself as available as possible while telling himself that he was stupid and heading into dangerous territory. When he thought of Pod, he felt a wave of guilt that threatened to knock him over. He felt a bit like a study in human nature. How did one stop themselves from doing the stupid thing? Did you get credit for knowing it was stupid?

Yet here he was on the day of the barbecue bumping his hip against hers to get Sansa out of his way at the grill, and then grinning at her when she glared at him. There he was again making sure she had her favorite wine chilling in the fridge for later. And there he was putting a spoon to her mouth and having her try a taste of his barbecue sauce for the ribs.

When Robb arrived and Jon gave him the rundown of what they were making and when, he knew where Sansa was at all times, watching her roam back and forth from the house to outside preparing for the barbecue.

It was building inside of him, this thing. He was afraid of it, but he was at the same time not running for the hills as he should be.

“So, things are going well here?” Robb asked he emerged from the house after grabbing a beer for himself and Jon.

Jon’s gaze drifted past Robb to Sansa who was directing Lyanna to the table with a plastic tub full of plasticware. Whatever Sansa was saying was making Lyanna roll he eyes. After Lyanna put the plasticware on the rolling cart on the deck, she ran off, shouting for Ned, and then it was Sansa who rolled her eyes. Jon smiled inwardly and focused on Robb.

“Things are going well,” he told Robb.

“Robb? Jon? Can one of you help me?” Sansa called out to them.

Jon put his beer down and started for her. “Be right back,” he told Robb, following Sansa into the house.

He felt a bit like a puppy following its master wherever they went. “What were you saying to Lyanna? She looked thrilled,” Jon said.

Sansa shook her head and he watched the way her red hair done up in a ponytail swished from side-to-side. “I told her that while her friends are here she can’t be mean to her brother. One of her friends, Myrcella, is a bit of a bad influence on her. As much as Lyanna marches to the beat of her own drummer, there is something about that brat that brings out the worst in Lyanna.” She stopped by the fridge, arms folded across her chest, and looking annoyed.

“While I live and breathe,” Jon teased, clutching at his non-existent pearls. “Sansa Payne. Did you just call a child a brat?”

“Yes! Because she is. And I couldn’t tell her not to come because that would have been obvious. Her brother is the one that picks on Neddy at Rec.”

Jon frowned. “Now I don’t like her either. And Lyanna is friends with this girl? That doesn’t sound like our Lyanna.”

Our Lyanna? Had he really just said _our_ Lyanna?

Sansa didn’t seem to notice, and if she did she didn’t say anything. Or probably chalked it up to the fact that Lyanna was his goddaughter after all. He didn’t know why he’d said it, and it wasn’t as though he thought of Lyanna as his and hers – he knew that Lyanna was most definitely Pod’s. It was just that in spending so much time with the kids, in helping Sansa take care of them, he felt close to them both in his own way. He felt that in some way, in his own special way, he was part of them. That was all.

“I think Myrcella is popular and Lyanna feels that pull to be in the limelight.” She sighed, rolling her eyes heavenward as she tilted her head back. “What am I going to do when she’s a teenager?”

“Homeschool her? Lock her up?”

Sansa laughed and turned abruptly to dig into the cabinet above her. She pulled out a big red bowl and handed it to Jon. He put it down on the counter and then took a yellow bowl followed by a blue bowl that she handed him. Lined up on the counter, he watched her tear into a bag of chips and dump the bag into the red bowl. Catching on, he grabbed a bag of tortilla chips and dumped it in the yellow bowl while Sansa dumped cheese puffs in the last one.

Ned came strolling in the kitchen then, head down, looking, well, rather sullen. Jon had noticed that morning that Ned had lacked his usual pep. In fact, he’d seemed downright downtrodden. He frowned as he observed the boy. “Okay, Ned?” he asked.

Ned just nodded and headed outside.

Sansa sighed as she watched him go. She looked pained and somewhat regretful.

“What is it?” Jon asked, lifting his hand to tuck a stray hair from her face. He dropped his hand before he actually did it. _What the fuck are you doing, idiot?_ he thought.

Sansa looked over at him sadly, her hands pressed up against the edge of the counter. “I’m not sure I should have done this barbecue and his party today. This is the first end-of-summer barbecue since…”

Well, if that wasn’t a bucket of ice water. This was the first traditional end-of-summer barbecue and celebration of Ned’s birthday since Pod died. Even if Ned didn’t know he was going to have a birthday party later, this was still a big deal and out of the two of the kids, Ned would be the one to feel it the most.

“I thought if I still had it, it would be better than not having it. Normalcy, routine, the fact that some things don’t have to change…” she sighed. “I thought it would be okay. Maybe I was wrong.”

“No, I think you made the right decision. Life…” he sighed. “Okay, this might sound callous as fuck, but life goes on. Remember what Dr. Asshai said?”

She nodded, “That the first holidays and other family rituals and traditions would be hardest for the first year.”

“Not doing this at all would have called even more attention to it.”

“You’re right. I just hate to my baby boy so upset.”

Jon reached out and hesitantly put his arm around her shoulders. “I know,” he murmured. “It’s going to be okay. His friends will come and he’ll forget about it for a little while.”

Sansa leaned into him, nodding. “You’re right.”

Jon sucked his lips inside his mouth so he wouldn’t do the stupid thing and kiss her temple.

“We’re here!”

Catelyn. Oh joy.

Jon dropped his arm just as Sansa moved away to greet Catelyn and Arya who entered the kitchen. He put on a big smile in the face of the woman who disliked him, and the other one who had a crush on him. Thank God there was going to be a lot of people there to divert their attention off of him that day.

xxxxxxxx

Just as Jon had predicted, once Ned’s friends had arrived at the barbecue, he was focused on them and not the fact that he was missing his father. He was pretty sure Sansa was going to have a chat with him later anyway.

He knew it still weighed on Sansa’s mind how Lyanna had been upset with her father the morning Pod had left for his run and never returned. She had decided not to bring it up unless Lyanna did, not wanting to upset her if it was a non-issue for her daughter.

Jon knew Sansa worried about her kids. Shit, he worried about them too. He wanted Pod to look upon them and be proud of how they were thriving. lol He wanted Pod to be proud of him for helping, for doing as he’d promised. He wouldn’t think about what Pod would _not_ be proud of him for – contract or no.

He and Robb had a good time grilling together, and Arya had come over to hang out with them for a while. Jon hoped she wasn’t still getting any ideas. Thankfully, he was spared Margaery’s presence that afternoon as she had another obligation. The few times he’d been in the bakery since he’d first met her, the other woman had flirted with him shamelessly. It had made Jon quite uncomfortable. He was used to a more subtle kind of flirting, not the overt way Margaery went about it.

He wondered though, as he watched Sansa flit here and there making sure everyone was taken care of, if he should consider dating. Maybe it was what he needed to get over this… _thing_ with Sansa. For the millionth time he told himself he was in dangerous territory. Maybe it was time to do something about it. He could try, even if he wasn’t attracted to Margaery that way. Perhaps it was a matter of her becoming attractive the better he got to know her.

He ignored the sinking feeling in his gut at the prospect of taking Margaery on a date and instead focused on grilling. He forced himself not to keep watch of where Sansa was at all times because it didn’t matter. He was Pod’s best friend and she was Pod’s wife. Nothing was going to happen.

When the food was finally done and he managed to sit down to eat – a hamburger, hot dog, ribs, and Sansa’s out-of-this-world potato salad, he found himself nowhere near Sansa. She was sitting next to Sandor and her mother and Jon found himself sandwiched between Robb and Arya, just as it had been all afternoon.

He looked over at the kids sitting on a blanket spread out on the lawn and made sure that nothing that needed tending to was going on. Nothing was. They were all happily munching away, having worked up an appetite running this way and that all afternoon.

His gaze strayed back to Sansa who was laughing at something Sandor said and he felt his gut clench and his jaw harden. It was stupid. It was ridiculous. He’d seen Sansa and Sandor interact dozens of times by now, but it was the look on Sandor’s face now, that tender look he would let slip now and then that bothered Jon.

Then he found himself wondering if he ever looked at Sansa that way.

He watched Sandor hand Sansa a napkin and he pointed to his face and then hers and she wiped the area he’d pointed at with the napkin. Sandor said something again that made her laugh and Jon looked down at his food, wondering if he could impale himself on a rib bone.

He was being fucking ridiculous. Not to mention pathetic. He told himself that it was because he was looking out for her because Pod asked him to protect her from scummy guys. But Sandor was not scummy and that was not why watching Sansa take delight in Sandor bothered him.

He stuffed his mouth with food and listened to the conversations around him, trying to block out the tumultuous feelings he was having. When he was done, he picked up his plate and carried it to the trash. He was surprised when Sansa came up beside him to throw her own plate away.

“I’m thinking in an hour we’ll have Ned’s party. What do you think?” she asked.

He looked at her – at the sprinkling of freckles across the bridge of her nose, how the sunglasses she wore made her look more chic than she thought she was, and how he could see just a hint of red on her shoulders. Sansa was great at making sure the kids were slathered up with sunscreen, and then forgetting to put any on herself.

He shoved his hands in the pocket of his jeans and nodded. “Sure.”

She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “You okay?”

He took his hands out of his pockets and scolded himself: 

He gestured to her shoulder. “You need some sunscreen, San. You’re going to get burnt.”

She smiled and patted the side of his face. “Always looking out for me. Thanks, Jon.” She strolled away and then stopped and turned to say, “And hey – the food was fantastic. Thank you.”

God, he was beginning to hate it when she did that – patted his face or his shoulder like that. It made him feel as though she thought of him as one of her kids and he was definitely _not._

Cleanup took his and Sansa’s attention for the next hour, with Catelyn, Robb, and Jeyne from next door pitching in to help. People moved in and out of the house, people Jon didn’t know with names he couldn’t remember. It was fine. He’d learn in time.

Once everything was for the most part cleaned up, Sansa put Catelyn, Robb, and Jeyne in charge of collecting Ned’s presents that had been put up in her bedroom while Jon helped by getting paper plates for the cake ready, and pulling out the ice cream from the fridge.

“I’ll bring out the cake first,” Sansa told him. “Then after we sing Happy Birthday, we’ll have him open the presents, and then do cake and ice cream. Sound good?”

“Perfect,” Jon said. “I’ll just put the ice cream back in the freezer…”

Jon couldn’t help the beaming smile that came when Ned saw his mother come out with the cake and everyone started to sing Happy Birthday. He looked as though Sansa had just handed him the world and when Sansa looked at Jon and beamed too, clearly happy that Ned was so happy, Jon felt it again. He was _part_ of something here. Part of _them._

xxxxxxx

Uncle Robb had gotten Ned water balloons and water guns. Sansa had insisted all the kids get into their swimsuits first before letting them play with them. And she made them promise to stay well and far away from the adults.

The kids were fine with that.

Robb though, he snuck a water balloon and pelted Arya with it. Then Arya got one and got Robb back. And then Jon.

It was then that Jon and Robb teamed up to get Arya back and, just for good measure, got Sansa too. Jon even managed to get Sandor – for no particular reason of course.

It was then that a water fight was declared. Sansa was reluctant about it, but then Arya got her and it was game on.

It was every man for himself with Catelyn shouting at them to be careful and Ned telling Uncle Robb to stop stealing his water balloons.

“I’ll get you more,” Robb told him as he swiped another couple balloons.

Jon had managed to get away and made his way around the house to get away from the madness and hopefully get a better angle at getting Sandor again when he felt one hit him squarely in the back. Water splashed all over his back and he let out a yelp. The water was fucking frigid!

He turned and found Sansa standing there, her hand over her mouth, giggling.

He lifted his hand, showing her the water balloon. “You’re in for it now, Payne.”

She charged off, her sleeveless green top soaking wet and clinging to her body.

Sansa had curves.

Jon ran after her and when she whipped her head around to see where he was, she squealed and picked up the pace.

Jon ran hard and fast and when he was close enough, he reached out and nabbed her about the waist.

“Get her, Jon!” he heard Arya shout.

“He’s got you now, San!” Robb shouted.

Jon spun her around in his arms, dropped the water balloon between them, and then crushed her against him. It popped between them, wetting them both. Sansa squealed and tried to free herself, but Jon held her fast and tight against him. She dissolved into laughter and Jon laughed with her, gazing down at her brilliant smile, her wet face, and her eyes shining so brightly.

She took his breath away.

“Got you,” he said on a rumble.

She laughed. “You did.”

She was the one that broke their embrace and Jon reluctantly let her go, conscious of the fact that her family was watching and he didn’t need to hold onto her for so long.

He just really wanted to.

“Mom! Tell Uncle Robb and Auntie Arya to stop stealing my water balloons!” Ned whined as he came around the front.

Sansa brushed some hair from her son’s eyes and smiled at him and then looked over at Robb and Ayra. “Uncle Robb, Auntie Arya, stop stealing Neddy’s water balloons.”

“Listen, kid,” Arya said as she slung an arm around Ned’s shoulders and started walking him to the back of the house with Sansa following. Whatever she said next, Jon didn’t hear. He looked over to find Robb looking at him curiously, head tilted to the side.

“What?” Jon asked.

Robb stepped forward. “Are you in love with my sister?”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a bit cathartic...

Jon stared at Robb, unmoving. "What?"

Robb stepped even closer, his brows furrowing. "Are you in love with Sansa?"

"Why--why would you ask me that?"

Robb's frown deepened. "That's not really an answer. Or it is, by virtue of not answering."

Jon shook his head and stepped back. "I'm not in love with Sansa." _Am I? These things I'm feeling...is that what it is? I need to talk to someone about it but I don't think you're the one, buddy._

Robb rubbed the back of his neck and looked down the road. He was thinking, formulating his thoughts. Jon waited, feeling as though his heart was going to leap right out of his chest. Robb was onto him. Maybe Robb knew more than Jon did about what he was feeling. It would make sense. Had he ever been in love before? What he felt wasn't like anything he'd ever felt before. 

_Fuck me. No. Please no._

"Here's the thing, Jon: I've been watching you all day. Kind of hard not to do when I've been standing beside you for most of it. You know, my family...they like to think I'm oblivious. In fact, they're pretty convinced of it. I like to think it's my superpower - that I know more than I let on and can whip out the information when everyone else is blindsided by something that I saw a mile away."

"And you think you saw me falling for Sansa a mile away?" Jon asked stiffly. Was he going to demand he leave Sansa and the kids if Jon was honest with him about his feelings? Wouldn't that cause problems and raise questions if he did? 

"Well, no, not at first," Robb said, scratching at his ear absently and scrunching up his face. "I saw you just being a good friend to Pod who felt obligated—"

"I don't like that word. Obligated. Sansa wouldn't take kindly if she thought I felt obligated to help her out. I felt like I had to come because I...I just did. But I never felt _obligated_ to do it. It wasn't a hardship for me to help."

"See, now you sound all defensive. Now you sound like someone who is in love with my sister and we're having a semantic argument about what brought you here. My mother..well, you know what my mother thinks. She thinks Sansa being a widow makes her an easy target."

"Has anyone attempted to disabuse her of the notion that I would take advantage of a widow? Jesus Christ, I am not that hard up for female attention that I would prey on a widow - and the _widow_ of my best friend!" Jon erupted angrily. "Pod brought me here. Sansa and the kids brought me here, and Sansa and the kids are what prompted me to stay."

Robb held out a hand, tilted to the side and he looked as though he sort of wanted to laugh a bit. "Okay, you're obviously angry about what my mother thinks and I don't blame you. For the record, I have told her often that I don't think you have anything nefarious up your sleeve. But then I see how you look at her, how you act around her--"

"And now you think it's nefarious?" Jon demanded. 

Robb sighed, raking a hand through his auburn curls and making them bounce back into place. "No...I don't know. No. I just - she's my sister, Jon. She's my little sister who lost her husband and her kids are my niece and nephew. They lost their father. It's obvious they love you, and it's obvious that Sansa has come to rely on you. As her big brother, I have to look out for her. She's in a vulnerable spot and it's not that I don't like you or think you're a good guy. Nothing about you has ever screamed 'Opportunistic Asshole' to me, but I have to make sure that my sister is protected."

"I'm not in love with your sister," Jon said, trying to keep his temper and his fears under control. "I care very much for her." _And that feels like an understatement, unfortunately,_ he thought. "And I love those kids. I'm here to help her and the kids. I'm here to finish that extension."

"But you have plans to stay?"

Jon nodded slowly. "Yes. I can't just go back and leave them - Lyanna and Ned already lost their father and now that we've gotten close, I can't just disappear on them."

Robb shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and studied him. He didn't look quite convinced that Jon wasn't in love with Sansa. _Well, join the club_ , Jon thought. _I'm beginning to wonder myself. But I'm not admitting to anything else. Not so I can be scrutinized further. Fuck that._

Finally, Robb nodded. "Okay then. You're not in love with her. But you do have feelings for her?"

"I just said I cared about her very much," Jon said tightly. 

Robb nodded again. "Look, I do like you, Jon. I don't think you're a bad guy. Let's say you were in love with Sansa, or had feelings for her that was more than friendship - that doesn't mean I wouldn't be opposed to it. It would just mean that I'd have to issue you a very strong warning that if you fuck with my sister and hurt her in any way, I'd have to kill you." He laughed a little to cushion his threat. "You understand where I'm coming from?"

Jon nodded. He did. And he respected Robb for at least being upfront about the fact that he was worried about his sister instead giving him the cold shoulder like Catelyn did. But this wasn't comfortable. He was already at odds with himself for what he felt, and now he was pretty certain that Robb would be keeping an eye on him. 

It drove the point home that despite how close he and Sansa were, and how close he and the kids were, Jon was still seen as "other". He was not part of them. Not really. He was still the stranger, the interloper. The guy staying in Sansa's house and doing construction work. Not the guy Sansa confided in, not the guy who played with the kids, and helped Sansa take care of them. Not the guy that just wanted to see her smile. Robb had just reminded him of his place. 

This had to stop. He couldn't keep going like this. He couldn't keep digging this hole deeper. He could never act on what he felt, and he _would_ never. Sansa was grieving and would never look to him, Pod's _best friend_ , to start anything with in the event she was ever ready to move on. And he could not, in good conscience, make a move on her. He would be betraying Pod if he did - _fuck_ that goddamn contract. Fuck everything, actually. 

"You wanna get a beer later?" Jon asked, hoping to ease the tension between him and Robb, and show him he was okay with him doing his job as Sansa's big brother. Plus, it was obvious to Jon that what he needed to do was get away from Sansa when he could. No more following her around like a lost little puppy. He'd help her out as he was doing, but he had to put some distance between them before what he felt went completely off the rails. 

Robb nodded with a grin. "Sure."

xxxxxxxx

_"Something going on between you and Jon?"_

Hours later and Arya's words to Sansa after the water fight were still ringing in her head. 

_"No," Sansa had said, startled. She'd felt...caught._

_Arya just arched her brows. "Interesting. Looks like something."_

She'd left before Sansa could question her further, not sure if she even _should_ question Arya since she was pretty sure Arya still had a bit of a crush on Jon. 

Sansa looked around the living room, nursing a glass of her favorite wine. It was late. The kids were asleep, and Jon was out and Sansa felt, well, she felt rather alone. She had been looking forward to this time all day, but when she had imagined quiet time, she had imagined it with Jon sitting right beside her as they rehashed the barbecue and talked about the highlights. 

It was what she and Pod would have done. 

Sansa sighed and put her glass down on the coffee table. She leaned forward, placing her elbows on her thighs and buried her face in her hands. She couldn't stop the tears from coming. And she could tell herself all she wanted that it was the wine and she was just really tired, but the fact remained that she was lonely. She missed Pod. And now she missed Jon being there when she shouldn't. 

There was nothing going on between her and Jon, except that Sansa couldn't stop wanting to be around him. There had been moments the past few weeks where she'd almost felt giddy in his presence, like she used to feel when she and Pod were first dating - all excited and nervous and possibly a little flirty. 

"I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm sorry, Pod. I don't know what I'm doing. I just miss you so fucking much. Am I weak? Is that what's wrong with me? Am I unable to be alone after having you for so long? I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry."

When she saw headlights flash into the room and heard the hum of a car, she knew Jon was home. She jumped up and all but ran to her bedroom. She didn't want him to see her like this. He'd ask questions, and she would have no answer to give him. She mainly felt pathetic and _wrong_ \- just very very wrong. Not to mention weak. Was she going to be one of those women who found a man to be with not even six months after her husband was dead because she couldn't hack it on her own? She had to think of her kids. She had to think of _Pod._

_Pod is gone,_ the little voice in her head said. 

_Fuck you, I know that,_ she thought. _Don't you think I know that? I spend every night in this bed without him. I wake up every fucking morning without him. I go through every goddamn day without a phone call or a text from him. I come home every day and he's not here. There's this big black void where he used to be._

What really fucked her up was not only did she miss him, but her new normal was becoming normal. She didn't expect to see him when she came home anymore. He was gone. He was gone and it terrified her that she was going to forget him. That she'd stop talking to him one day on her way to work. That her kids would forget him. That he'd just be someone they had a hazy memory of. That one day someone would ask Lyanna or Ned about their father and they'd say, "I kind of remember him." And that the things they remembered might not even be real, just stuff they half-remembered to be true and filled in the blanks for. 

And then what if she started to do that? She could already no longer remember his voice. His scent was gone. His face was beginning to fade when she closed her eyes, and she had to look at his picture to fill in the details. When she went to bed at night she thought of Jon. 

It was not acceptable. She was a terrible wife. Horrible. The worst. And a terrible mother to boot. 

After splashing some cold water on her face, Sansa climbed into her bed and sobbed into her pillow. She heard Jon moving around and hoped like hell he didn't hear her. She couldn't rely so heavily on him anymore as her source of comfort. She had to do this on her own, and she had to distance herself from him or she'd end up mistaking everything he had done and was doing for her and the kids and turning it into something else. Something she wasn't ready to feel for someone else. Something that made her feel as though she was cheating on her husband. 

It took a long while for exhaustion to finally ease her into sleep, but as it did her last thought was that maybe she should try to talk Jon into going out with Margaery again.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've had how Jon and Sansa met rolling around in my head, and the backstory of how Pod and Sansa met too. I had to reread the story to make sure I didn't fuck it up. If I did, kindly let me know. I thought I had put when Pod and Sansa met, but apparently it was all in my head lol.

The next few weeks were a bit of a whirlwind. With school on the horizon, Sansa’s spare time was spent getting Lyanna and Ned ready for it by getting them what they needed for their classes as well as new clothes and haircuts. Lyanna had some of Sansa in her after all, for she had very particular ideas about what she wanted to wear on her first day of school.

Ned didn’t care. But Sansa didn’t expect him to. At least not yet.

The night before the first day of school was rough. Ned, prone to being nervous about new things, was wound tight. He knew his classmates, he’d met his teachers already, but he was still nervous. Pod had been like that; he’d get nervous before any big event and keep her up all night with his tossing and turning. So, she knew that Ned was going to have the same problem that night.

He kept asking Lyanna what to expect on his first day of first grade and Lyanna kept telling him the same things over and over again. Finally, Lyanna gave up and escaped up to her room while Ned went outside to swing on the swings. He looked so lost and forlorn, and Sansa's heart ached for him. She didn't know what to say to him to make him feel better at this point and just hoped that after tomorrow, he would feel at east. Sansa watched him from the window while she cleaned up from dinner and Jon, who had been helping her, told her he was going to have a chat with him.

She finished cleaning up the kitchen, once in a while peeking outside to see Jon next to Ned on the swings. When Ned got up and ran to the house with Jon at his heels and a big smile on his face, Sansa couldn’t help but smile too. It was all she wanted – her kids to be happy.

Ned bounded off to his bedroom, saying he was going to grab his baseball and mitt to play catch with Jon as he ran past Sansa.

Sansa looked over at Jon who was grinning. “What did you say to him?”

Jon shrugged. “We went through his list of worries one by one and I gave him the alternative outcomes. He was worried his teacher would yell at him and I asked him if he ever did anything to warrant being yelled at. He said no. So, we moved onto the next worry. And then I just told him that whatever he was nervous about wasn’t going to come to pass. That usually the things we worried most about never did. And I told him that if things at school became so unbearable that he couldn’t handle it, he could always call me here at home to talk about it.”

"Thank you, Jon," Sansa said, practically gushing with gratitude. "I feel sort of like a deadbeat Mom just saying 'stop worrying' over and over again."

"Please. You're hardly a deadbeat Mom. You've been getting them both ready for tomorrow, plus you've been swamped at work with everyone and their mother wanting to do a last summer hurrah in this town. Is it a thing that people do here - throw big parties at the end of the summer?"

She laughed, wiping her hands on a nearby dish towel. "Possibly. But seriously, thank you for helping him."

"You're welcome. He reminds me of Pod."

Sansa rolled her eyes, laughing a little. "And how he worries about everything? Yeah. I know."

Jon cocked his head to the side, a soft smile on his lips. "You never struck me as much of a worrier like he was."

"I wasn't. I think you learn to let things roll when you come from a big family." She frowned and reached out a hand, touching his arm. "I'm sorry."

He started down at her hand on his arm. "What're you sorry for?" he mumbled. 

"Well, because you...well, you..."

"Didn't come from a big family? Was an orphan?" he asked, looking up at her. "That's not something you have to apologize for, Sansa. Or not mention."

She nodded and began to draw her hand away. Jon grabbed it and squeezed. He looked up at her. "Sometimes I like to think I'm part of something here," he said softly. "And sometimes I feel like I'm still that kid that doesn't belong."

Sansa looked down at their clasped hands. His hands were warm. Calloused too. There was no way Sandor could say he had "professor's hands" anymore. The work was coming right along - it was starting to look like a room, not just a blob of wood, plastic, and scattered materials. 

She looked back up at him, in his soft gray eyes that seemed, in that moment, so very...intense. Glowing almost. He looked so earnestly at her, as though begging her...but for what? Acceptance? Didn't he know already how she had already accepted him? A thousand times over, and the only problem she saw was in how fervently she accepted him. She attempted to draw her hand away, but he wouldn't let go. 

"You are accepted, Jon. You do belong," she said softly, her voice catching on some emotion. "You are part of us here."

He squeezed her hand again, and then let go just as they heard Ned come bounding down the stairs. 

Sansa wasn't entirely sure what that had all been about, but she felt it was important - very important to Jon, and so she hoped her assurance helped. 

xxxxxxxx

Sansa was so busy getting the kids ready for school, Jon didn't think she noticed that he spent more time hanging out with Robb, and even sometimes Arya, at the bar. Through Robb, he met Theon - someone he wasn't quite fond of, but got on well enough with. Most likely though, Theon wasn’t someone Jon was going to seek out and spend time with alone. 

He found himself missing Tormund. He didn’t have a wide circle of friends, but he didn’t care about that. He chose quality over quantity. He thought about calling Tormund and talking to him about what was going on, how he found himself pretty much fucked when it came to Gorgeous Sansa. He could hear his friend laughing already and saying ‘I called it!’

He kept thinking he should ask Margaery out, at least give it the old college try, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. He just lacked the interest. He’d never really been great at subterfuge and pretending. 

He imagined Tormund would hit him upside the head and tell him to get his head out of his arse – yet he wasn’t sure if it would be for feeling as he did for Sansa, or for not acting on how he felt for her. (He knew the answer, but he was at least good at pretending he didn’t for that one). 

He was definitely fucked. That was the plain and simple truth of it. He couldn’t recall feeling quite this way over another woman before. He knew lust. He knew the comfortable feeling of finding someone who shared mutual interests. But this? This was not something he had any experience with. For weeks now he had a map in his head of the places on her face he wanted to kiss. The freckles across her nose and cheeks. The freckle on her collarbone. The dip in her collarbone. The space between her breasts. The base of her neck right where her clavicle and neck met. Her cheekbones. The arch of her brows.

Her lips. 

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t really a map with any order to it, but those were the places he thought about kissing the most. 

Was this love? Shouldn’t he know? 

He just didn’t know how to stop whatever it was. He felt like a victim and this thing was just something happening to him. If that was love, then it could kiss his ass. Was there any way to just nip it in the bud and put an end to it? He told himself constantly to cut the shit but it was as though his entire being was a tuning fork when it came to Sansa. 

He was addicted to her smiles, and thought her laughter sounded like the finest music. She was a fantastic Mom even as she thought she wasn’t, and even though it was probably wrong to enjoy those moments when she and Lyanna would bicker, he did. Sansa might think Lyanna was more like Arya, and in a lot of ways she was, but Jon saw more Sansa in her. Her stubbornness. Her unwillingness to ask for help. How she sometimes treated Ned as though he was her son and not her brother. Even the way she would sometimes put her hand on her hip when trying to make a point was pure Sansa. 

Whereas Arya was often removed from showing concern or caring for others, it was obvious that Lyanna cared a great deal about the people she loved and would do anything for them. That was pure Sansa. It was just that Lyanna was a bit more reserved about it like Arya. 

Then there was Sansa’s sense of doing what was right – Ned had that same moral compass. And, just like his Mom, Ned cared for his loved ones as well. But like Pod, he loved easily and quickly even when he should exercise some restraint. 

Sansa said he was part of them and if she said it, then it must be true. She wouldn’t have said it otherwise no matter how badly he’d needed to hear it. Sansa could suffer fools, but only for so long. She was not above a white lie to spare one’s feelings, but when it mattered she didn’t pull any punches. 

Hearing her say it had meant everything to him even if there was a part of him that didn’t believe it. He wondered how she’d feel if she knew how he felt about her. He feared her reaction if she knew. He feared her kicking him out of their lives. Jon was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to handle that. 

He found himself thinking a lot about the first time he’d met Sansa. It was sometime after Pod had proposed to her, and he’d flown out to meet the woman that was preventing his best friend from ever moving to Portland with him as Pod sometimes thought he might do. 

It had been hard being without his best friend when Pod had made the decision to head to Winterfell to get his Master’s in teaching. It was there that he’d met Sansa. To make ends meet, Pod had gotten a job doing some construction work and then he’d quit school because, well, he’d learned he didn’t actually want to teach. He liked working with his hands. He liked making something that had a tangible end: he could see the fruits of his labor. He’d taken a few classes to finish out his Masters, but this time he focused on becoming a foreman, which he’d managed to do the last few years of his life. Sansa had said they weren’t rolling in money, but they were well enough off. 

When Jon met Sansa he remembered thinking she was beautiful, if not a bit reserved. She had been friendly enough, but had lacked some warmth. A couple hours later into the meeting and Sansa had thawed. Pod had warned him that she could be a bit shy with new people, but Jon hadn’t really given that much consideration. He was the most non-threatening person on the planet next to Pod, why would she need time? (This was of course him ignoring the fact that he was the exact same way with new people.)

She was Pod’s girl so while Jon liked her, he obviously didn’t feel that way about her, nor did he entertain any fantasies about her. This wasn’t a long-buried feeling brought back to life. That might have had some romance to it rather than a sneak attack by a foreign intangible thing he had no experience with. 

Jon liked her better each time they met, but he was still really Pod’s best friend and her friend by virtue of the fact that she was Pod’s wife. It wasn’t as though she and Jon exchanged emails or texted each other. Any communication they had was always through Pod. 

And now… _and now._

My how things had changed.

Since he couldn’t seem to stop himself from doing stupid things like holding her hand and extracting assurances from her that he was part of them here at Casa de Payne, Jon thought after the kids went to bed it was probably best he make himself scarce and see if Robb wanted to go out and get a drink with him. 

He wondered if he was on some kind of timer and eventually it would run out and he’d do something really stupid like actually kiss her or confess that his feelings for her had changed. 

But maybe the fallout he feared from doing just that would be enough to keep that from happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. The kiss. I have performance anxiety I think. I am drawing a blank, and it's been built up so much now that I'm afraid of it being anti-climactic! What do you guys think? how do you think it should happen? how do you think it would?


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you, qinaliel for your help! 
> 
> Strap in!

Sometimes Sansa wished she had the gift of prophecy. Other times she thought it would be a curse. Would it be better to know what was coming? Or would knowing be worse?

When she thought of that morning before Pod went on his jog, and when she thought of the week, and then the month preceding it, she thought again and again: we just never knew. There was no inkling. No Spidey sense that went off that said, "Danger danger, Will Robinson!" It didn't seem fair. There was no time to brace themselves for it. When Pod left for his jog he had no idea what was going to happen to him. 

Blindsided. They'd all been blindsided. There they were going on about their day and then someone was dead. A father. A husband. A best friend. A son. There they were preparing for their weekend never knowing that watching a movie that night as a family wasn't going to happen. That Ned and Lyanna weren't going to play with their father outside the next day. 

She hated being blindsided. She hated it. She wanted to know. At least have an inkling that her whole world was about to be turned upside down. 

Kind of like it was now. 

The envelope addressed to her with no return address had sent off some warning bells in her head. How often did a letter with no return address pop up? It was ominous to say the least. 

Nervous, Sansa opened the envelope and unfolded the crisp white paper. It was typed. 

_Dear Mrs. Payne,_

_I am the man who hit your husband. I am a monster. I know I am. I took away your husband, and I robbed your children of their father._

_Words cannot express how deeply sorry I am. I know it will never be something I forget, and that it will haunt me for the rest of my life. I'm serving time, as you know, and I'm seeking help for my alcoholism._

_I wish I had the words to convey my remorse. I know that you will probably never forgive me for what I did and I don't expect you to. I just needed to apologize to you for what I’ve done._

He signed it with a scribble, but Sansa knew she would never forget his name. It was burned into her brain. 

"San?"

She looked up and saw Jon coming toward her. He’d been gone when she’d gotten home and he held a white CVS bag in his hand. He dropped it on the table and came over to her, looking concerned. "Sansa, what is it? What happened?"

She thrust the letter at him. If she spoke, she would break, and she was barely hanging on by a thread. In fact, she was starting to shake. 

Thankfully, the kids were spending the night with their grandmother so they didn't have to be here and witness her trying desperately to grab onto a life preserver so she didn't sink. 

She had been having such a good day...

Work had gone well, and the morning had gone smoother than usual in getting the kids out the door. Based on Ned’s behavior now compared to the first day of school when he was a nervous wreck and demanded Jon go with them on the ride to school, the school year was already old hat just two weeks in. 

That day she had finally finished the cake for Jon's surprise birthday party the following day. He had no clue about it at all. All he knew was that there was another barbecue happening, and that he would be grilling with Robb again. The big surprise would come when the cake she'd made that day would come out, and he'd have presents to open. It was one way she thought he might feel part of them, part of the family. She'd spent time practicing pictures of rulers, plywood, and levels with frosting before drawing them on his cake. 

She’d had to do some detective work to find out what flavor of cake he liked best, too. Thankfully, she’d just asked point-blank and he’d told her without seeming at all suspicious. 

For his gifts, she'd gotten him a beautiful leather bound journal that she figured he could write in. She hadn't seen him write since he'd moved in, but she knew he did write at one time. Lyanna got him shirts that weren't black (Sansa had to talk her out of Hawaiian shirts), and Ned got him a fountain pen to go with the journal. 

She hadn't felt this excited about something in a long while. 

And then this. 

This stark reminder of injustice in the world. Of death. Of loss. Of pain. 

Jon's jaw was clenched and he slammed the letter down on the counter, causing Sansa to jump.

"What am I supposed to do with that?" she croaked. “Am I supposed to forgive him now? Am I supposed to feel sorry for him? Cause I don’t. He killed my husband.”

“Fuck forgiveness,” Jon said harshly. "What do you want to do with it?"

She blinked. “With the letter?”

He nodded.

"Burn it?"

"The fire pit is right outside."

She looked at him and nodded dumbly. "Okay."

Jon grabbed the letter and then dug in the drawer next to the sink for the lighter. He grabbed it and then nodded at Sansa. "Let's go."

They marched outside together. Jon was a man on a mission. Sansa felt as though she was just trying to process and make sense of what was happening. One minute she’d actually felt happy. The next…

Was this her punishment for allowing herself to feel happy? For planning a birthday party for Jon? 

For…noticing him?

Was this the universe’s way of reminding her?

Standing before the fire pit (that was going to need some logs and sticks for tomorrow), Jon thrust out the lighter and paper. "You should do the honors."

Sansa grabbed the letter and lighter and placed them down on the grass. 

"What are you doing?" Jon asked. He was angry, but there was something else in his voice. A creeping note of grief Sansa was all too familiar with. He was holding on by a thread just as she was. 

"I need a minute," she said and started to wring her hands together. "I just - I have a lot of...feelings inside me right now. It almost feels like I'm a volcano about to burst.” She flapped her hands in front of her. “It's just building and building..." She gestured to the letter. "I didn't expect this, Jon. I didn't - I mean, I knew that maybe sometime that fucker would do something like this, but I just - I was having a good day. A good week. And now I get this and it's like reopening the wound...I want - I kind of want to fucking scream."

"Then scream, Sansa," Jon said gently. "Scream if you want to scream. It's just us."

"And the neighbors."

" _Fuck_ the neighbors."

A short burst of laughter came out of her. 

His eyes narrowed and he held up a finger, signaling to her to wait. He stormed up to the deck and grabbed pillow from the wicker loveseat and brought it over to her. 

She looked at him. "You first."

Jon didn't use the pillow. He screamed out into the open air. It shocked her. She stood there, watching him with her eyes wide, as he threw his head back and let loose. She half expected him to beat his chest. He finished with a shouted, "MOTHER FUCKER!"

He looked wild and untamed. And watching him made Sansa want to be wild and untamed too. He handed over the pillow, but she didn't take it. Instead she threw her head back and screamed. Then she shouted, "You took my husband from me, mother fucker! I hope you rot in hell!"

Then she heaved in a deep breath and shouted again. "I don't forgive you! I will never forgive you! How dare you?!"

"ASSHOLE!" Jon shouted. "FUCK YOU!!!"

And then together they screamed at the top of their lungs. 

Ready now, Sansa bent down and grabbed the letter and the lighter. "Let's do it together, Jon," she said, panting and a bit hoarse now from screaming and shouting so much. She handed him the letter and kept the lighter. 

He nodded, took the letter, and held it over the fire pit. Sansa then lit it up. Jon dropped it into the fire pit and they watched it curl and turn to ash. The scent of smoke rent the air and Sansa realized that while some part of her felt better, it wasn't burning the letter that had done it, but the shouting. The words in that letter were now also burned into her brain. 

The onslaught of adrenaline, the anger and the pain - it all caught up with her and she started to cry. Jon drew her into his arms and held her tight against him, his lips in her hair. "It's okay," he whispered. "It's okay."

“Is it?” she asked mournfully. 

“It will be.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes, Sansa, I do. You’re doing so well. So are Lyanna and Ned. Don’t you see it?”

She looked up at him, tears in her eyes. His eyes were wet too. “What if that was my punishment for not thinking about him every second of the day today? What if that was my punishment for even feeling good today?”

He shook his head and framed her face in his hands. They were warm. “Sansa, no. No…do you really think you’re being punished?”

“I don’t know,” she said, dropping her gaze to his chin. “I feel guilty sometimes when I realize I went for a stretch without thinking about him. When I find myself smiling and feeling happy for a minute…”

“Pod would not want you to be miserable. He would not want you to spend every minute of the day in mourning. Do you really think he’d want that for you?”

She lifted her gaze to his. “No.”

“He only ever wanted you to be happy. He would want you to be happy now, not beating yourself up for it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for… all of that. The screaming helped.”

“Of course.”

Their gazes caught and held and Sansa felt her heart start to race. “You know you can always let it out with me,” he murmured. 

She nodded. “I know. I’m glad you came home when you did.”

“Me too,” he said quietly. His gaze dropped to her lips and her breath caught. She wet her lips without even thinking about what she was doing. "Sansa," he croaked. 

Sansa started to lean in, closing the gap between them when she heard her name being shouted, and they sounded close. "Sansa! Sansa!" She pushed away from Jon thinking, I almost just kissed him. 

It was Jeyne, making her way across the yard from the latched fence on the side of the house. She looked worried as she hurried over. "I heard shouting and screaming. Patty across the street called me and then Lizzie next door – they were ready to call the cops. I told them I’d come over and see what was going on first. Are you all right?”

Sansa stepped away from Jon and wiped at her eyes. "We're fine, Jeyne," she said. "I just - I just got a letter form the drunk driver that struck Pod. Jon and I were... we were letting it all out."

Jeyne put her hand over her heart. "Oh, that's awful, Sansa."

Sansa heaved a shuddering sigh, dangerously close to tears again. "Yeah."

Jon watched as Sansa and Jeyne headed to the house and he clenched his hands into fists. He and Sansa had almost kissed. And he’d been robbed of it again. He shook his head and cursed, running a hand through his hair. That was not the thing to focus on after that fucking letter. 

Jesus. 

Couldn’t the fucker have written it and then never sent it? Why should he be granted any small amount of closure or peace by sending that fucking letter? 

Jon shut his eyes. She’d leaned in. She had definitely leaned in as though she was going to kiss him. 

His eyes popped open. _Not the thing to focus on!_

He needed to get away from Sansa for a while. He was too wound up. Between the letter and an almost kiss…he was afraid he was going to do something stupid like try to pick up where they left off when Jeyne got around to leaving. 

That would be stupid and wrong and no. 

He marched into the house and found Jeyne putting tea on for Sansa who was sitting at the kitchen table, looking tense and a bit shaky. Because of the letter? Because she had almost kissed him? Both?

She looked at him when he entered the kitchen and stopped fidgeting. 

“I’m going out for a while,” he declared. “I shouldn’t be long.”

Sansa nodded. “Oh—okay.”

He grunted, nodded at Jeyne and grabbed his keys off the counter. He’d just get some dinner, alone, and maybe call Robb and get a drink. Or just get one alone. Probably alone. It wasn’t like he could talk to Robb about this. He just needed to think and process. 

_I’m sorry, Pod_ , he thought as he started up his car. _I’m so fucking sorry._

***********

It was late. Well, late for Sansa. Really, it was only nine. 

After Jon had left, Jeyne had insisted they get take-out. Then, when Jeyne had left, Sansa had wrapped Jon’s presents, taken a bath, and called to wish the kids a good night. 

Jon still wasn’t home. 

Where was he? He’d been gone for four hours now. Where could he possibly be? Didn’t he knew that she worried more now? Especially since she’d tried texting and calling and had gotten no answer back. 

Did she go look for him? Or did she just calm the fuck down?

It was just after that letter…

Yeah. She worried. 

He was probably disgusted with her. He had to know that she’d almost kissed him. How the hell had she gone from being so fucking miserable about that letter and thinking she was being punished for her unruly feelings and then almost kiss the object of her unruly feelings? 

It was just…it felt good to be held. To be supported. 

She was so goddamn lonely. And Jon was…he was Jon. And he felt _good._

Her phone chimed and Sansa lunged across her bed to grab it. She fumbled with it and saw a text not from Jon, but from Margaery: _Mr. Jon Snow is here at The Watering Hole. Think this is a sign? I’m going in! :)_

Her heart dropped to her feet. She felt as though she couldn’t breathe. She had the strong urge to fling her phone across the room and hope it smashed. 

Not many men were able to resist Margaery, though Jon so far had. To be fair though, he’d gone out of his way to avoid her since that first day Margaery came onto him. 

_They’re just going to talk_ , Sansa told herself. 

She sent a quick text back to Margaery: _Is Robb with him?_

The reply: _Nope, he’s all by his lonesome. He’s getting us drinks now._

 _They’ll have a drink and he’ll come home,_ Sansa thought. _At most they’ll have two. Jon is responsible, he won’t drink and drive, and especially not after what happened to Pod. He’ll be home in an hour. He knows we have a barbecue tomorrow. Just because he’s having a drink with Marg, doesn’t mean he’s going to do anything with her._

Frustrated with herself for her jealous and traitorous thoughts, Sansa got up out of bed, clutching her phone tightly in her hand and started to pace. _Just stop it. Just stop it already. What is wrong with you? You’re supposed to be mourning your husband, not wondering what his best friend may or may not do with Margaery. It’s none of your concern. Remember how you thought they would be a good idea?_

She hated this feeling. This tightness of her skin. This feeling like her heart was going to fall out of her chest. Was she going to have a panic attack? This was stupid. So fucking stupid. 

Now she was crying. 

She went to the fridge and got out a bottle of wine. Her favorite that Jon mysteriously replenished every time she ran out. She got the cork out and chugged it straight from the bottle. 

_Stop being ridiculous,_ she told herself again and again. 

But it wasnt working. No matter how many times she thought it. 

Two hours later she was drunk and in her bed, falling asleep. 

And Jon was still not home.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone! You guys are the best ever!

Slowly, Jon awoke. 

His first thought was: I’m thirsty. 

His second thought was: My head hurts. 

His third thought was: This does not smell like my bedroom. 

And then his eyes popped open. 

He wasn’t in his bedroom. And he was only in his boxers.

Just as the memories of the night before began to piece themselves together in his mind, Margaery came waltzing into the bedroom clad in some kind of pink silk nightgown that fell to her knees and had lace at the top of it. She was carrying a tall glass of water and was jiggling something in the palm of her hand. 

_No_ , Jon thought as he pushed himself up off his stomach and sat up. The room spun and he winced. _No, no, no. God, please, no._

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” she chirped with a smile. “I thought I was going to have to wake you.” She handed over the water. “I also have ibuprofen for you head. Need it?”

Jon grunted in the affirmative and held out his hand. Margaery dumped the pills in the palm of his hand and Jon practically shoved them in his mouth. He chased them down with the water, chugging it until it was gone. Good Christ, that was fucking good shit. Who knew water could taste so good? 

Margaery took the glass from him and tilted her head to the side. “Sleep well?”

Jon was desperately trying to remember if they…could he ask? Should he ask? Fuck it, he needed to know. “Did…did we…?”

She giggled. “Almost. You fell asleep on me before we got to the main event. I slipped into the bathroom for condoms and you slipped into sleep.”

Maybe they didn’t fuck, but this was still bad. Still very very bad. “How far did we – I mean, how…” 

“You ate me out like a champ.” 

“Bathroom, I need the bathroom,” Jon said urgently. 

She pointed to the door. “Right across the hall. You gonna be sick on me?” 

He didn’t answer her. He didn’t have time. He got up and ran to the bathroom and heaved into her toilet. 

When he was done, he stood there, the cold sweat he’d broken into still chilling him. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Margaery asked softly from the doorway. “Maybe the water wasn’t such a good idea right away.” 

Yeah. Maybe that was it. Or maybe it was because he’d fooled around with Sansa’s best friend and he felt as though he’d cheated on Sansa in some way. They weren’t together. They weren’t a couple. Shit, they hadn’t even kissed, not really. 

She was mourning her husband and him his best friend. Any feeling he had for Sansa was coupled with guilt for feeling as though he was betraying Pod. But, last night, before he’d gone out to eat and then went drinking, he’d just driven around and around for almost two hours and had come to the conclusion that despite the guilt, despite how wrong it might be, he was falling in love with Sansa. 

He wasn’t sure when it started. Maybe it had just been building the whole time; he just didn’t know. But he couldn’t ignore it any longer. He couldn’t deny it because it every time he did, it just got bigger. It demanded attention. 

God dammit, if he’d known….if he’d known how easy it would be to fall for her then he never would have-- 

Yes. He would have. He would have because Sansa and the kids needed him. Because Pod was his best friend despite what a shitty best friend he was turning out to be and, well…he’d needed Sansa and the kids too. Being with them had given him a purpose. If he’d just gone back to Portland and his sad sack life, he would have drowned in it. He would have drowned in his grief. Being with Sansa and the kids had helped him too. 

“Jon? You okay, baby?” 

“Don’t call me that,” Jon said hoarsely. 

“Hey, are you just sick from being hungover or are you upset that we…?” 

“I was drunk,” he said. “I was upset last night after that letter…” _After almost kissing Sansa and then not being able to. After wishing Jeyne hadn’t interrupted us and then being glad that she had._ Why did having feelings for Sansa feel like a bowl of fishhooks? He couldn’t pick up one without picking up a bunch. With desire and love came guilt. Everything came with guilt. 

“Are you saying that I took advantage of you?” Margaery asked, sounding quite pissy now. “Because I assure you, Jon, you’re the one that asked to come back here. You’re the one who tossed me on that bed and went down on me—” 

“Stop,” he rasped. “Please stop.” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” she demanded. “What is the big fucking deal? It’s not like you’re seeing anyone.” 

That was true. He wasn’t “seeing” Sansa. They just shared meals and a house and kid duty and talked about their day together and supported each other and mourned together and he was only finishing that goddamn addition… 

And she’d almost kissed him. She’d leaned in, he hadn’t. She had wanted it. He reached out and held onto that: she had almost kissed him. So that had to mean that she had…feelings for him? 

If she did, then Jon had fooled around with her best friend and that would kill any chance he might have with Sansa. 

If there _was_ a chance. 

If he could _take_ that chance. 

If he could leave the guilt behind long enough to see if they _had_ a chance… 

“Are you going to answer me?” 

Jon looked at her. “I’m just not in a good place right now for a relationship.” 

“Who said anything about a relationship? I’m fine just fucking around, Jon. Jesus, you don’t need to be so melodramatic and make it a big thing.” 

“I’m not wired that way.” 

She smirked. “Oh, I don’t know. With the proper lubricant, you were just fine.” 

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry, Margaery, but no.” 

She looked pissed again. “Whatever. Fine. I don’t know what the big deal is, but whatever. You better get ready. The barbecue at Sansa’s is in two hours.” 

Fuck! The barbecue! Jesus Christ, could he just die too? Fucking bloody hell – he had promised Sansa to make his barbecue sauce and marinate the ribs for today. He hadn’t even called to tell her where he was or what he was doing because he’d been too busy making sure he fucked everything up. What would she think though when she realized he never came home last night? _What did she think he was doing?_

Was this how he dealt with the guilt over Pod? By sabotaging any chance at all he might have/could have with Sansa? Just ruin it before he even gets a taste of her and make it so she won’t want him at all? 

“…texted her last night and let her know you were here with me.” 

Jon snapped his head to look at Margaery so fast he could have given himself whiplash. “What?” 

“I texted her after you passed out on me so she wouldn’t worry. She didn’t reply until this morning, though. She wanted to remind us about the barbecue.” She frowned. “I’ll let you shower first and then we’ll get your car from the bar.” She started to walk out. 

“Did you – did you tell her anything?” Jon managed to ask. 

“A girl doesn’t kiss and tell, Jon,” Margaery said and then shut the door behind her. 

But it was a given. He’d spent the night after all. 

Jon turned and threw up in the toilet again. 

xxxxxxxxx 

If anyone asked why she had bags under her eyes and they were red-rimmed, Sansa would tell them it was the letter. 

It should only be that anyway. And it was partly that. 

Partly that and partly Jon and Margaery, and partly guilt for being so jealous she couldn’t see straight. She couldn’t even breathe right. 

Plus, she had a bit of a wine hangover, and she had guests coming in an hour. 

Every time she heard a car go by she braced herself that it was Jon. She couldn’t face him. 

She _had_ to face him. 

Today was his goddamn birthday party after all. The actual day was tomorrow, but this was the only time they could all get together. 

_Happy Birthday, Jon! You got laid last night!_

While she was pacing and worrying and being consumed with a jealousy that she thought might eat her alive and then feeling like the worst wife ever for being jealous – 

_No. Stop. This is good. This is good._ Margaery and Jon together made sense. It was what she had wanted. It was what she should have helped make happen when she’d first realized her feelings for Jon had taken a turn. 

Then she would think of them in bed together and she would feel as though she was losing her mind all over again. 

She had just finished preparing the barbecue sauce that _Jon had promised he would make for the ribs_ when there was a knock at the door. 

She jumped a mile. Her nerves were completely shot to hell this morning. 

Wiping her hands on a dish towel, she made her way to the door and opened it. 

“Hey, Little Bird. I know I’m early, but I was hoping to check on something with Jon about the addition.” 

Sansa choked back tears. “He’s not here.” 

“Oh.” Sandor frowned. “At the store or something?” 

_I wish_. “No, um, come in. He’ll be here eventually.” 

Just as the words came out of her mouth, Jon’s car flew into the driveway and he parked behind Sandor. Then Margaery came. She took her time though; she didn’t barrel in the way Jon had. 

“There he is,” Sansa said and pointed. 

_Time to put on a good show, Sansa. Be happy for them. Be thrilled. You can do this. You should be happy for them; you should be thrilled._

Jon came running out of the car and up to the house. He slowed when he realized Sandor was there. He focused on Sansa, looking at her in that intense hyper-aware way he had. “Hey.” 

Sansa forced a smile. “Hey! Sandor stopped by early to discuss something with you about the addition.”

Jon stared at her as though he was trying to process and understand what she was saying just as Margaery came strolling up the path. 

“Hey, girl!” she greeted Sansa. She nodded to Sandor. “Sandor.” 

“Margaery,” Sandor grunted. 

They didn’t hate each other per se, but they weren’t big fans of each other either. 

“Everyone come in, come in,” Sansa said and opened the door wider. She headed for the kitchen and heard everyone trooping in behind her. 

She peeked over her shoulder and was thankful that Sandor was the one right behind her. She went to the counter and kept that big smile on her face. “Oh good, I have help now! Margaery, can you help me take some things outside while Jon and Sandor talk?” 

“Of course,” Margaery said. “Just point me in the right direction.” 

“I need to make the barbecue sauce for the ribs,” Jon said, stepping forward. He was still staring at her, boring holes into her really. 

“I already did,” Sansa chirped, avoiding his gaze completely. If she looked at him or Margaery directly she would not get through this. “Margaery, there are a couple trays over there with things that need to be put on the cart outside on the deck. Can you do that for me?”

“Sure,” Margaery said and went over to them.

“You have a minute—” Sandor started to say to Jon. 

“Sansa,” Jon said.

“Hmm?” Sansa hummed as she began coating the ribs in the pan with the sauce. 

Jon grabbed her wrist. “Sansa, look at me.” 

“Why did you just grab her?” Sandor asked. 

Sansa finally looked at Jon. He looked about as awful as she felt (and looked). Good. “Sandor wanted to discuss something with you, Jon. I have this right now. Don’t worry about it.” She smiled again. 

His jaw clenched. She pulled her wrist free of his grasp and went back to coating the ribs. 

_And the Academy Award goes to…_

xxxxxxxxxx 

Every minute that went by that Jon didn’t get a moment alone with Sansa drove him nuts. And while he didn’t always necessarily think he was a great observing things, he did notice that Sansa kept herself surrounded at all times. She asked Robb, her mother, even Arya, or one of the kids to help her when she went in the house for something. Even when it was something simple like getting a bottle of salad dressing. 

She kept someone in between herself and him and herself and Margaery at all times. In fact, she had barely spoken to her best friend at all. Margaery didn’t seem to notice as she was pretty tight with the Starks and blended in well with them. 

He took over the grilling, and Robb kept him company most of the time. And he watched Sansa. Closely. 

She was avoiding him. She was avoiding Margaery. 

Was it possible she was not as happy with everything as she’d pretended to be this morning? Did that mean that she was quite possibly jealous? 

It would make things a lot easier if she was. Because then bringing up the fact that he had feelings for her would make that whole discussion a lot easier. Or…did he not bring that up at all? Maybe she hadn’t been about to kiss him at all yesterday. Maybe he’d imagined the whole thing. Maybe she was actually fine with he and Margaery (though he still wasn’t), and maybe he was just looking for things that weren’t there. Maybe she wasn’t avoiding him and Margaery at all. 

That was a lot of maybes. 

The night before was slowly coming back to him, too. He remembered deciding to just get a beer and head home. He remembered deciding not to call Robb because he just needed to be alone. But then Margaery was there and he did the nice thing when she came over to him and bought her a drink. But then she kept buying for him. He remembered saying that if she got drunk they’d have to call a cab because after what happened to Pod… 

So she had switched over to water. He remembered telling her about the letter. He remembered her talking about Pod and Sansa and what a great couple they’d been, which had only made Jon feel worse. 

He remembered her kissing him. And he remembered wishing it was Sansa, and kissing her as though it was. After that, he’d suggested going back to her place. He’d been depressed. Full of longing. He was still afraid that if he saw Sansa, and especially while she was drunk, he would spill what he felt for her. 

Yeah, he’d gone down on Margaery. Yeah, he’d thought if he could just get laid maybe he’d feel better. Maybe he’d get rid of this tension that had been building inside him and he’d be able to think clearer. 

He barely remembered the actual act of going down on her. It wasn’t Margaery that he wanted, though; that much was clear. He wanted Sansa. Only Sansa. 

He regretted it. He’d led one woman on – and Sansa’s friend and co-worker to boot – and had potentially hurt the woman he never ever wanted to hurt. Not to mention that he hadn’t been there that morning to help her prepare for the barbecue as he’d promised he would. 

“You okay, man?” Robb asked when Jon pushed his plate of half-eaten food away. 

“Just a big hungover is all,” Jon said as his gaze drifted to the other picnic table where Sansa sat with her mother, Lyanna and Ned. Margaery was at the end of the table. 

“You and Sansa get drunk together last night or something?” Robb asked. 

“No, it was uh, it was just me,” he mumbled. 

Sansa got up from the table and said something to Lyanna and Ned who nodded happily and got up as well. She went to the house with them following behind her and Jon got up too. He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to make her look at him, talk to him. He needed something from her – reassurance and…and something. He just couldn’t take this avoidance thing anymore. 

“Jon, wait,” Catelyn Start said and practically jumped in front of him. 

He just looked at her. She was willingly talking to him? Had Sansa said something to her about last night? Was she going to take him to task for letting her daughter down this morning? For not calling her last night to at least tell her where he was? Fucking hell, he should have at least done that much. But no, he shut down the ringer and put his phone away like an asshole. 

“Yeah?” Jon said a bit curtly. 

Catelyn looked startled by that, but she covered quickly. Jon didn’t care. 

“I – I just wanted to tell you that the addition seems to be going well. It looks good.” 

Now he felt like somewhat of a shit. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down. “Thanks.” 

“And I wanted to thank you for all you’ve done for Sansa and the kids. You were all they talked about last night. It’s obvious they adore you.” 

“I adore them too,” he said. 

“I can see that. And I…I’m sorry I was so hard on you before. It’s just that I worry about my daughter. About all my kids.” 

Jon nodded. He understood that, even if he did think Catelyn had still been needlessly bitchy to him. 

He opened his mouth to thank her when he heard the singing. He looked up and past Catelyn to see Sansa carrying the biggest round cake he’d ever seen with white frosting and candles aglow. Lyanna and Ned were beside her and the three of them were singing Happy Birthday. 

Then everyone joined in and it took Jon a minute to realize what was happening, and who they were singing to. 

To him. They were singing Happy Birthday to him. 

Catelyn guided him to the picnic table and had him sit down. Jon did so, feeling a bit dazed, and watched Sansa place the cake before him. He looked down at it. This was why she’d wanted a barbecue today. Christ, in all the madness, he’d forgotten his birthday. This was why she’d asked him about what kind of birthday cake he liked. He hadn’t even connected the dots… 

She’d drawn a level, a hammer, plywood, and a ruler. She’d written “Happy Birthday Jon!” in blue – his favorite color. And she knew that, too. 

He looked up at her, feeling as though his heart was full and ready to burst. 

She smiled, and he knew it was forced. He knew Sansa’s real smiles. He cherished her smiles. And he knew which smile meant what. This one he didn’t like. It was cold and impersonal, and it didn’t meet her eyes. 

All this time she’d been planning this. Planning his birthday. 

“Okay, but seriously, the candles are going to melt the cake,” Arya said and nudged his shoulder. “Make a wish and blow them out!" 

Jon nodded. He knew what to wish for. He sucked in a deep breath for effect and Ned giggled. He then blew out the candles while thinking, _I wish for Sansa Payne to love me back._

He knew it now, and he’d been deluding himself.

He wasn’t _falling_ in love with Sansa. He was _already_ in love with her. 


	19. Chapter 19

Jon thought he was going to cry when he opened his gifts from Sansa and the kids. Ned and Lyanna had looked so proud of themselves, and Jon couldn't remember the last time he'd ever felt so touched. 

Sandor had gotten him tools. Robb had gotten him a scarf. Catelyn had gotten him gloves, and Arya had gotten him a few CDs of bands they'd talked about that she wanted him to try. But Sansa's gift and Ned and Lyanna's gifts had taken the cake. 

And now that he'd faced the truth of what he felt for Sansa, he just wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. He wanted to make right all that had gone wrong. 

Yet it didn't appear to be in the cards for a while. 

Finally, after the cake and some more mingling, Margaery got ready to go. Before she did though, she asked to speak to Jon alone. 

He walked her to her car and before she could even say a word, he apologized. "I was an asshole," he said. 

She stopped in front of her car, arms folded across her chest, and her lips pursed together. "Well, that saves me from having to say it."

Jon nodded. "I reacted badly this morning. I'm sorry. I led you on and I felt terrible about that."

"Yeah, you did lead me on. I do want to make it clear that you're the one that wanted to go back to my place and--"

"I know." He didn't want to go over it again. It was not a shining moment, that was for sure. He prided himself on being a stand-up guy, but his head was a fucking mess and had been since Pod passed. 

"I watched you today."

Jon looked at her. "What?"

"I watched you today. I'm not just another pretty face, Jon, or an awesome baker. I'm a smart woman."

"I know you are."

"And after we got your car at the bar this morning, you tore out of that parking lot like a bat out of hell. The way you ran up the steps to the house this morning to see Sansa..."

"Margaery--"

"I'm not done."

Jon clamped his mouth shut. 

"The look on your face when you saw her this morning. Then how you grabbed her hand and asked her to look at you. I thought - Self, there is something odd about that. And so I watched you throughout the day. Your eyes never left Sansa. You watched her like a hawk. And the look on your face when she brought out that cake and gave you that journal... You're in love with her, aren't you?"

Jon sighed. "Could I even attempt to lie to you at this point?"

"No."

While Margaery had been watching him, he had been watching Sansa, so it was possible Margaery missed how Sansa had avoided having direct contact with them both. To a casual observer perhaps it just appeared that Sansa was busy playing hostess. Margaery had been mingling with Arya, Catelyn, and the kids enough to perhaps not have noticed Sansa's game. 

But because he was in love with her and apparently fucking obsessed, not to mention obvious to everyone around him, he noticed everything. 

"So it's true," Margaery said. 

Jon merely nodded. 

"Does she know?"

"No."

"Are you going to tell her?"

He heaved a deep sigh. "I don't know."

"So, that's why you reacted the way you did this morning. You felt...what? Guilty?"

He nodded again. 

"Pod was a good guy. A great guy, actually."

"I know," Jon rasped. 

"And he considered you his best friend, so he must have thought you were pretty awesome. And I know Sansa thinks you are. Up until this morning, I thought you were pretty great too."

"Margaery, I'm sorry. I really am. I - I have no excuse expect my head is not on straight and hasn't been since Pod died. I come here to help Sansa and the kids because it's what Pod would have wanted me to do, and I end up falling in love with his wife. Then yesterday with that fucking letter and--" _You've already said too much, you don't have to tell her about the near kiss._ "And I wasn't thinking clearly. The guilt I feel regarding Pod...I'm in love with his wife for Chrissakes!"

"Pod is dead, Jon," Margaery said softly. "You are alive. And so is Sansa. Has she given you any indication that she might feel the same way?" Jon averted his eyes and Margaery swore. "You son of a bitch. You're telling me that Sansa gave you some kind of clue that she might return your feelings and you asked me to take you back to my place last night?" She pointed to the house. "Sansa is my _best friend_. And I work with her. Did you not think that could have made things a _little_ awkward?"

"I fucked up," he croaked. "I know I did."

"Fix it," Margaery said. "Just fucking fix it."

"I want to. I plan to. I don't know how, but I will."

"How about you start with the truth? Because from where I'm sitting, you hurt more people when you're not being honest with yourself and them."

xxxxxxx

 

"San? Where are you?"

Sansa swore under her breath and hurried away from the window where she had been spying on Jon and Margaery in the driveway. She couldn't hear what they were saying, and they weren't making out...In fact, Margaery looked a little pissed and she couldn't even see Jon's face, so...?

She hurried down the hall to the kitchen where her Mom was packing up some things. She started asking Sansa what she wanted to do with the leftovers, and Sansa was glad for the momentary distraction. 

Then Jon came in the house with vibrating with an energy m ix of 'kicked puppy' and 'intense'. 

"Did you enjoy your surprise, Jon?" Catelyn asked him. 

"I did, very much," he said. And even though Sansa wasn't looking at him to be able to know this, she just knew he was staring right at her. "Sansa is very thoughtful."

"I try," she chirped and smiled. She hoped she sounded light and airy. I don't care, I don't care, I don't care, she kept telling herself. 

Robb, Sandor, and Arya came trudging into the kitchen then and she could have kissed them. 

"Ned and Lyanna are playing outside," Robb told her. 

"I figured," Sansa said. 

In no time flat the kitchen was cleared as was the deck. It was then that panic started to set in. She was going to be alone with Jon soon. 

She wasn't ready to be alone with Jon. 

Sandor left, and then her family - her family who is supposed to love her - all left at the same time. 

"And then there were two," Jon said softly. 

"Well, technically four," she said. "The kids are outside."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm just going to check on them--"

But Jon grabbed her hand before she could go anywhere. "You can stop now, Sansa," he said softly. 

She pulled her hand free and looked at him. "Stop what?"

"Avoiding me."

"I'm not--"

"Yes, you are, sweetheart. I've been watching you all day."

She blinked. "You've been watching me?"

"Seems to be one of my favorite things to do."

Now she just didn't know what to say or do. She shook her head. "I - I need to check on the kids."

"They're fine for a minute, Sansa."

"Jon--"

"I'm sorry. About last night."

Well, fine. If he was going to force this conversation... "I texted you. I called you. You never replied back. I had to wait for Margaery to text me before I knew what the hell had happened to you. After that letter yesterday, after what happened to Pod, you know how I worry, Jon."

He nodded. "I know. I'm sorry. I have--"

"And you promised to make the barbecue sauce."

"I know."

"And to help me this morning." Good fucking Christ. Now she felt like she was going to cry. She'd run out of things to yell at him about and the only thing left was the one thing she didn't want to discuss. 

"I know."

She furrowed her brow. "Wait. Did you call me sweetheart?"

"I did."

"Can you say more than two words?" she snapped. "You're supposed to be a writer."

"I didn't have sex with her."

Her mind was racing. They stared at each other, her on one side of the island, him on the other. But she wasn't really seeing him. All she was thinking was - How do I react to this?!

Finally, she said, "You can have sex with whoever you want. I tried to set you up with her before--"

"You don't want me with Margaery, Sansa."

"You're right; I really think you and Sandor should actually make a go of it."

He chuckled, but his expression of humor didn't meet his eyes. "You don't want me sleeping with anyone."

"Jon, just - what are you saying? What are you _doing_? What is the point of this? Do you have one?"

"I have feelings for you, Sansa. I can't keep pretending I don't, or trying to make them go away. You don't have to tell me I'm a shitty friend to Pod for having them, but fuck, I can't stop it. I think about you constantly--"

"You live with me."

"You know what I mean," he said, his gaze intense, hard almost. 

"No, I don't," she said with a shake of her head. 

"Sansa, you avoided me all day. You avoided Margaery. You almost _kissed_ me yesterday--"

"I did not," she said. A bit too quickly, too. She knew it, and by the look on Jon's face, he knew it too. She'd just confirmed that yes, she almost _had_ kissed him yesterday. 

He came around the island toward her and she panicked and moved away. "Sansa," he sighed and stopped. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep pretending that I don't have feelings for you. God, I wanted that kiss yesterday so bad..."

"Jon, what are you doing?" she whispered. "Pod--"

"You don't have to tell me about Pod, Sansa," he said, a trace of bitterness in his voice. "I already know. You think I don't already feel like I'm betraying my best friend by feeling this way? And I know that to almost kiss me yesterday, you feel something, too. Which also means you have guilt as well."

"But, you and Margaery - I mean you spent the night with her. Something had to have happened, and you had to want her--"

"I didn't. I _don't._ " He sighed and ducked his head. "We fooled around, yes--"

"What did you do?" she asked hoarsely. 

He looked up at her, narrowed his eyes. "Why do you want to know if you want to push me her way so bad? Because that's what you're gearing up for isn't it?"

She swallowed back the tears that were forming. She felt caught, utterly trapped, and she didn't know how to escape this. She looked away thinking, I need an escape route, when she felt Jon touch her arm. She jumped and looked at him. He was close, so very close now. She could see his beautiful gray eyes up close and the little wrinkles around his eyes that crinkled when he smiled. 

"Jon," she whispered. "I..."

"What, love?" he asked gently and reached up with one hand to stroke a strand of hair between his fingers. "You what?"

"I don't know," she whispered. "I can't - I can't think."

"Then don't," he murmured just before capturing her lips with his. 

At first it was just a press of his lips against hers. And then she wasn't sure who moved, but one of them did. Or maybe both. But in the next instant, Sansa's mouth parted and Jon kissed her for real. Tentative at first. And then he moaned - or she moaned - or again, both did - and the kiss deepened. 

She was moving backwards. Her back hit the wall behind her and her hands went up in the air somewhere by his shoulders - she thought to push him away, but then she didn't. She couldn't. He smoothly reached up and took her hands in his own and put them around him. Then his hands went to her face and cradled it as though she was made of fine spun glass. 

"Sansa," he moaned and looked at her. 

"Yes," she whispered. 

That was all he needed to lean in and devour her. His hands slipped through her hair as he held her in place, kissing her again and again. When his tongue touched her bottom lip and ran along it, Sansa moaned. His tongue touched hers and Sansa was lost. So very lost in Jon. She could do nothing but feel him - feel how _good_ this was to be held and kissed and touched. He was so strong, and his body was solid against hers. It felt as though they _fit_ together. 

He broke the kiss and looked at her, caressing her cheekbones with his thumbs and studying her as though he wanted to memorize ever part of her face. "You are so beautiful," he rasped. "Do you know that?"

She shook her head. Sure Pod had told her she was, and she knew she was pretty, but she'd never thought herself beautiful. 

Jon smiled. "You are. Beautiful Sansa."

"Mo-om! Ned threw up!"

Jon practically lunged away from Sansa, while Sansa practically ran to see about Ned. She heard Jon following her. Lyanna was in the hall and she told her mother to "follow her" as though Sansa didn't know where to go. 

Ned was bawling his eyes out in the front yard, and there was a puddle of vomit at his feet. As soon as he saw his mother he ran to her.

"Neddy, baby, what happened?" Sansa asked, kneeling down in front of him. 

"He had an extra piece of cake, Mom," Lyanna told her. "I saw Uncle Robb cut him one."

"Thank you, Lyanna," Sansa said dryly and stood up. "Come on, Neddy, let's go have a bath."

"Okay," Ned said pitifully, tears still streaming down his face. 

"Hey, Lyanna, what do you say we pick a movie to watch for later?" Jon asked. 

"Sure!" she bounded off ahead of them. 

Once in the house, Sansa pushed Ned up in the direction of the stairs and she felt Jon touch the small of her back. 

She looked over at him and noticed the worry on his face. "You okay?" he asked softly. 

She nodded, forcing a smile. She didn't know if she was okay; she had no fucking clue. 

Jon looked even more worried. "We'll talk later, yes?"

She nodded. "Yes."

And then they went off in their separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *peeks through fingers* Okay?


	20. Chapter 20

He'd kissed her. He'd finally kissed Sansa. That was all Jon could think as he followed an excited Lyanna to the family room to pick a movie. She'd looked a bit dazed when they parted ways on the stairs. He wanted to think it was because he had superior kissing skills, but he had a feeling that wasn't it. More like she couldn't believe that had just happened and then had to switch gears rather quickly because Ned had thrown up. 

"How about _Dirty Dancing_?" Lyanna asked. 

"Sure, sounds - wait, no. What?" He looked down at Lyanna who was smirking at him. 

"You look funny," she said. 

He frowned. "How do you mean?"

"You look like Ned does when he's daydreaming. Mom would say you're 'lost in another world' and that sometimes that happens when people daydream or read."

Jon smiled. "Your mom is a smart woman. Did you know that?"

"I do know that. Whenever I would ask my dad something he would always tell me to ask my mother."

Jon laughed at that; he couldn't help it. He could practically see Pod in his head not knowing what to do and deferring to Sansa. He did it all the time. 

"Your dad knew stuff too," Jon told her. "He was a very smart guy."

Lyanna nodded. "I know. He taught me how to ride my bike. And he knew a lot of math."

Jon grinned. "He helped me in college with my math homework."

"Mom always says that she isn't good at it and that when I start doing a lot of math in school, I'd have to ask my dad. But..." She looked positively forlorn as she gazed at the DVD in her hand. "But who am I going to ask now?"

"You can ask me," Jon said lightly. "And if I don't know the answer, I bet your Uncle Robb would."

Lyanna nodded and put Dirty Dancing back on the shelf. She didn't look quite assuaged by that answer, but at least she was talking about her father. Even though Sansa had still made it a point to talk about Pod, Lyanna still struggled with it. Jon wondered now if it was just too hard for her to talk about him before, and now, perhaps, as she healed it was getting easier. 

"Jon?" she asked in a small voice that nearly ripped his heart out. 

"Yeah?"

"The day my daddy died, I was mad at him. He said goodbye to me and went for his run but I never said anything back." Now she looked up at him with big tears in her eyes. "Did he die thinking I didn't love him?"

There it was. The thing that Sansa had been worried about and hadn't wanted to bring up if it was a non-issue. Apparently though, Lyanna had been holding onto that one for some time though. Jon squatted down before her and took her hands in his. "Lyanna, your dad absolutely knew how much you loved him. He died knowing that. People sometimes get upset with each other but that doesn't mean the love stops. He knew, Lyanna. Trust me on that."

Lyanna nodded and then burst into tears. Jon pulled her into his arms and hugged her. God, had this been eating at her all this time? The poor kid. Lyanna pulled back from him and grabbed a tissue off the coffee table nearby. Ever the practical Lyanna. Ned would've just snotted Jon's t-shirt happily. 

"Come on, let's pick out a movie you know Ned would like too, and get it ready for him," Jon said. "Sound good?"

Lyanna nodded. "Thank you, Jon."

"You're welcome," he said with a smile. 

xxxxxxxx

While Ned played in the tub, seemingly much better now that he’d thrown up, Sansa went to his bedroom to get his pajamas. 

Her mind was just spinning. She’d kissed Jon. Or rather, Jon had kissed her and she’d kissed him back. The semantics didn’t really matter though, did they? The fact remained was that she and Jon had kissed.

“San?”

Startled by the sound of Jon’s voice, she turned to find him standing in Ned’s doorway. He had his hands in his pockets and Sansa thought that something so innocuous should not be so sexy. Was she that hard up? 

“Yeah?” she replied. Did he want another kiss right this second?

“I just had a talk with Lyanna,” he began and entered the room. 

Her eyes went wide. “About what?” she asked. “About us kissing?”

He looked at her in surprise. “No! Why would I – Sansa, why would I tell her about that?”

“I don’t know! You said you had a talk with her and you look all serious – I made a guess.” She shrugged. “What was it about, this talk?”

“The day Pod died.”

Sansa gripped Ned’s pajamas hard in her hands. “I think I need to sit for this.”

“Good idea.”

She sat and he sat down beside her. “What did she say?” Sansa asked softly, bracing herself. 

“She told me she was mad at him before Pod left for his run that day.” He heaved a sigh. “Brace yourself... and she wondered if he died thinking she didn’t love him.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “She just about ripped my heart out with that one.”

“Tell me about it,” Sansa said, her eyes welling up in tears. “Jesus. She’s been carrying that around all this time. No wonder she doesn’t want to talk about him.”

He straightened and reached over, unfurling her fingers from around Ned’s pajamas. She was currently strangling them. He took them and placed them on the bed beside him and then slipped his hand into hers. “I told her that her dad died knowing she loved him, and that even when two people get angry with one another, that doesn’t meant the love goes away.”

“How did she seem after you talked to her?”

“Contemplative. She’s watching TV right now.”

“Should I go down there and talk to her…?”

Jon shook his head. “Not right now. I think she needs to process. I think maybe later?”

Sansa nodded and sighed as she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees. She hung her head. “Does this mean she’s healing? I mean, if she brought it up? Does this mean she’s willing to talk about it?”

“I think so,” Jon said and tentatively rested hand on her back. 

“If I could take their pain so they didn’t feel any of it, I would,” she whispered. 

“I’ve been thinking that about all three of you,” he murmured. “How’s Ned feeling?”

“Fine. I think throwing up helped.”

“How are _you_ feeling?”

She turned her head back to look at him. “Right now? Pretty gutted.”

“Do you want a drink?”

She smiled a bit and nodded. “I’d love one.”

He rubbed her back gently and then got up. He paused in the doorway, looked back at her. He looked like he wanted to say something, but then didn’t. 

Sansa got up and grabbed Ned’s pajamas. Discussions about kisses would have to wait for the time being. 

xxxxxxxxxx

Lyanna told everyone where they had to sit in the family room once they’d all convened together. Ned in the recliner on one side of the sofa, Lyanna in the one on the other side, and Jon and Sansa on the couch on opposite ends. “Not like Mom and Dad who sat in the middle together,” Lyanna told them. 

Jon felt that a bit like a punch in the gut – and a stark reminder of who he was not – and sat down, looking over at Sansa who had already pulled down the afghan from the back of the couch and laid it over her lap as she curled her legs up under her. She sipped her wine and shot Jon a small smile.

He found it difficult to focus on the movie when all he could think about was kissing Sansa. He wanted so badly to know what she was thinking, and yet at the same time he was afraid to know. 

He wondered if he should tell her about the contract. No. That would be a mistake. Sansa would think he only had feelings for her because of that stupid piece of paper; she would doubt his intentions and how real his feelings were. 

If she brought up Pod and guilt? Well, he could tell her that he felt it too, but together they could work on it. It wasn’t as though they were ever going to forget Pod and who he was to both of them. That was impossible. Pod was part of them. 

But he was alive, and so was Sansa and they couldn’t live their lives based on what a dead man might think and feel. And that’s when he circled back around to the contract. Pod had given him explicit consent. Shit, he’d made Jon promise to take care of her. To marry her. 

But no. After he’d let her down so epically the night before, he would not dig himself an even deeper hole. 

He then found himself wondering if what he felt for Sansa was real or if the contract had influenced him. Had what Pod asked of him just rolled around in his subconscious until he’d managed to convince himself he’d fallen for her?

He snuck a glance at her, at Beautiful Sansa, and felt that all too familiar ache in his chest that had Sansa’s name all over it. Even if he was influenced by that contract, did it matter? What he felt was real. And it was unlike anything he’d felt before because he was pretty certain that while he’d been infatuated and in lust, he had never been in love before. This was all new territory and he wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. He just really hoped he didn’t fuck it all up. Okay, so he kind of already had by staying out all night at Margaery’s without calling her, so he hoped he didn’t fuck it all up even _more_. 

The movie ended and Sansa had climbed off the couch, rallying the kids to their bedrooms for school tomorrow. 

“Jon, will you tuck me in?” Lyanna asked him. 

Jon darted a glance at Sansa before looking down at Lyanna’s upturned face. “You sure you don’t want your mom to do that?” he asked her. 

“I’m sure.”

Jon bit back a laugh. Lyanna often knew her own mind, though he did wonder if she was just avoiding having the conversation with Sansa about the morning of Pod’s death. Maybe she wasn’t ready. Or maybe she was over it already. With Lyanna, it was sometimes hard to tell. 

Jon looked at Sansa for guidance and she just smiled and nodded. “It’s fine.”

Jon let Lyanna take the lead. If she brought up Pod and wanted to talk about him, he would do what he could for her. But she didn’t mention him, and admittedly he was partly relieved for that. 

Once Lyanna was tucked in for the night, Jon headed downstairs and got himself a glass of water while he waited for Sansa to appear. He was a bundle full of nerves and thought a drink might relax him, but no, he’d had enough the night before. 

So, he waited. Anxiously. 

Sansa appeared soon enough. She stood in the entrance way of the kitchen and he stood behind the island, hands braced on the edge of it. 

“Did Lyanna say anything?” she asked.

“Not a word.”

Sansa nodded slowly. “So…”

“So.”

“I don’t know what to say,” she said, sounding a bit exasperated. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“I’m a bit all over the place, honestly.”

“Try me,” he said. 

“Well, obviously I’m thinking about Lyanna.”

“What else?”

“Our kiss.”

“What about it?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “And Margaery.”

Jon sighed. “Sansa—”

“How far did you go?”

“Sansa,” he said, closing his eyes briefly. “I don’t want to do this.”

“I need to know.”

“Do you?” he asked, a little irritated. More with himself than with her. “Or do you just want to know? And for what purpose?”

“Because not knowing is going to eat at me. I just want to know how far you went. She was interested in you, Jon. I don’t want to…I don’t know – poach on her territory?”

Jon laughed, a bit darkly. “You’re not poaching. Margaery and I are clear about what happened and how things are going to be going forward.”

She pointed in the direction of the front door. “Is that what you and she were talking about out there before she left?”

“Were you watching us?” he asked. 

“Just answer the question, Jon,” she snipped. 

“Yes, it was what we were talking about,” he replied. “Were you watching us?”

She shot him a glare. “Yes.”

He rocked back on his heels, relaxing a bit. 

“My my, don’t you look smug,” Sansa drawled. 

“Well, I’ve admitted my feelings and you haven’t. Not directly anyway. So I have to infer what your feelings are by your actions and what you won’t say. And if you were watching Margaery and I outside have our talk, then it stands to reason that you were possibly jealous. Am I right?”

“I could just be really nosy.”

“You’re not though.” He came around the island, moving closer to her. “Come on, Sansa, give me something here, please.”

She looked down, her face scrunching up as though pained. “I’m afraid.”

“You think I’m not? I’m terrified.” He took a chance and moved close enough to run his fingers down her arm. He grasped her hand and squeezed. “We can do this together. One step at a time.”

“How far did you go with her?”

He heaved a sigh and tightened his grip on her hand. He was afraid she’d try to escape. “I went down on her—” She did try to escape, tried pulling her hand from his. Jon wouldn’t let her go though. Instead he pulled her to him. “Sansa, look at me.”

“Jon, let me go,” she said firmly. 

“Only if you don’t run away. Sansa, look at me, please.”

She looked at him, hurt and venom in her eyes. 

“I thought if I slept with her I could, I don’t know, get past this. Stop feeling what I feel for you.” He shook his head. “I passed out before we could actually have sex. I barely remembered this morning when I got up, I was so fucking hungover. And when I asked and she told me how far we went…well, I got sick.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Sansa, God help me, all I want is you. All I see is you. I know you have guilt because of Pod. I have it too. But I can’t go on pretending I don’t feel this way about you.” He released her hand and reached up, framing her face in his hands. “Sansa—”

“Jon, stop, just stop,” she said and put her hands over his and pulled them away. She moved away from him and Jon had to hold himself back from reaching for her again. All he wanted was her in his arms. All he wanted was for her to focus on them and no one else. 

“Please tell me that I didn’t fuck this up completely,” he said hoarsely. 

Her hands fluttered in front her. “I need some space. I need room to think…”

He stepped away. “Okay, okay. Whatever you need. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“I just need to think.”

He nodded, feeling at a complete and utter loss. He’d fucked it up. He’d lost her before they could even start. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

“Christ, don’t apologize,” he muttered. 

“I know it shouldn’t matter what you and Margaery did. It’s not like I was ever honest. It’s not like I’m being honest now. And it’s not just that. It’s Pod.”

“Sansa, I _know_ ,” he said desperately, wanting so badly to reach for her. His hands were fists at his sides, stopping himself. 

“I think I’m a little overtired. I barely slept last night because I was worried and then…” She heaved in a shuddering breath, “Yeah, jealous. I was jealous. Going out of my mind with it.”

“Sansa,” Jon croaked. “ _Christ_ , baby.” This time he did reach for her, moved toward her. 

She stepped back further away from him. “And now I’m worried about Lyanna.” Her voice cracked, and he could see the tears in her eyes. 

Jon felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do for her. He was part of the reason for those tears and he hated himself for it. If he hadn’t signed that contract. If he would have just had Margaery take him home instead of to her place. If he hadn’t fallen for his best friend’s wife. If if if. 

“I’m just going to go to bed and get some sleep. I’m feeling all over the place and I need to sleep. I need to be able to think clearly.”

He nodded. “Whatever you need,” he said hoarsely. 

She nodded, muttered a quick good night, and was gone. 

Jon had never before understood the point in punching a wall. Doing so could potentially put a hole in the wall, and you risked fucking up your hand in the process. But, in that moment, the need to see something break and the need to fuck himself up made sense to him. Unfortunately he couldn’t do that, and though he didn’t think punching a pillow would bring the same satisfaction, he was still going to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Sansa is a bit all over the place and I hope that came across here. She might also be using what Jon did with Margaery to deflect a bit too...but she's just on overload right now.


	21. Chapter 21

Sansa barely talked to him the following morning. Not more than she had to anyway. She certainly didn't give him any indication of what she was thinking or feeling. 

Jon was trying to be okay with that. 

She needed time. Shit, didn't he too? 

Yet the prospect of starting something with the woman he loved was an enticing one. More kisses. He wanted more kisses. Definitely more of her in his arms. 

When they parted ways for the day, Jon got his laptop out and started doing a job search. The extension wasn't done, but he wanted to be prepared for when it was. He supposed he should have started looking for work before the semester started, but he could always look for part-time work for now until something more permanent opened up later. Plus, he could always apply to writing and editing jobs. He still had money in the bank - not paying rent helped quite a bit in that area. 

Honestly, he sort of didn't know that he wanted to teach anymore. He had been feeling burnt out when Pod had died, and so leaving hadn't exactly put a crimp in his career. And he was tired of writing academic novels that no one but other academics read. Wanted to discuss the symbolism of paganism in the works of the Romantics? Then he was your guy. But that sort of thing didn't exactly kill it at parties. Not that he ever went to one. 

So, maybe it was time to change things up and actually write something he was passionate about. 

He smiled thinking he was pretty passionate about Sansa. 

And in that vein, he wanted Sansa to know that he was serious about staying here with her and the kids. Even if they didn't work out, and God fucking hell, he hoped she'd give him a chance, he didn't want her to think he'd just up and leave. Maybe it would be hard if they didn't work out. Maybe he'd want to go because it would be easier for whatever reason, but even if being around Sansa got hard, he wanted to be here for Ned and Lyanna. They'd had enough loss and, well, he was attached to them. 

He might not know what he was looking to do at the moment, but it gave him something to do. He didn't like this feeling he had; this restless feeling of not knowing what to do. He didn't want to pressure Sansa into anything, and yet not knowing if she was going to outright reject him weighed on him. It wasn't like he didn't have reason. She had three good ones: Pod, her kids, and Margaery. Oh, yes, and the family. He was certain that any respect he'd gained in Catelyn would be decimated once she found out something was going on between them...even if nothing at present really was. Though that wasn't true, was it? 

There was something going on between them, even if it wasn't exactly defined. Something had been happening for a while. He knew she had feelings for him. It was just...what now? 

Jon pushed put his elbows on the table and sighed, burying his face in his hands. "Pod...I'm...fuck. I'm so sorry." He moved his hands to his lap and stared at the wall across from him that needed a coat of paint. "I'm in love with your wife. I love her and I'm sorry. I know, I know, you wanted me to marry her but I never took you seriously. I never planned for _this._ " He frowned, cocking his head to the side. "Did you know? Did you somehow know this would happen? Was there the potential for it? Did you see it? Because I swear it never crossed my mind. She was your girl. Your wife. I never saw her that way." He sighed heavily. "Christ, I hope it's not just that I'm impressionable - did that contract just get in my damn head? Is this even real?"

He thought of kissing Sansa the day before, how she felt in his arms. How she tasted. Her moans...

It was real. His heart was racing at just the thought of it. The desire to do it again was definitely there. Christ, it was all he could really think about. Worry about.

He sighed again. "I'm sorry, Pod."

xxxxxxxx

The first thing Sansa did when she got to work was go into the kitchen - that wasn't unusual at all in fact - and say to Margaery who was already putting cookies on a pan: "I talked to Jon."

Margaery dropped the dollop of cookie dough she had on a plastic spoon into the bowl on the table and looked at her. "He tell you everything?"

"Everything being?" Sansa asked with a wince. 

Margaery frowned. "Did he tell you how he felt ..?"

"I know he has feelings for me. He kissed me. I...asked him about you..."

"Feelings," Margaery repeated. 

Sansa frowned. "Yeah, he told me he had feelings for me. Is that... I mean, do you...?"

Margaery's eyes went wide. "No! I mean - yeah, I thought he was hot. I told you as much. But feelings? No. Honestly, right now I'm trying not to think he's a complete dick."

"So am I," Sansa murmured. "And trying not to be...jealous?" She felt tears spring to her eyes and tried not to give into them. 

Margaery saw though, and ran to her. "Baby girl, no! No crying over this. No losing friendships - none of that shit."

"It's not just _that_ , it's - it's Pod and..." Now she was full on crying. She had handled herself well that morning with Jon and the kids - but the kids were a distraction. She didn't have to focus on Jon and her conflicting feelings. 

Margaery wrapped Sansa in a hug and stroked her hair as Sansa just let it all out. Then she steered Sansa over to one of the stools behind the counter and had her sit down. Tissues appeared in front of her face and Sansa took them.

Grabbing a nearby stool, Margaery pulled it over and placed it so that when she sat she was facing Sansa. "Sansa, do you have feelings for Jon?"

Great big tears formed again and Sansa nodded, catching them with the tissue before they spilled over. 

"And you feel guilty because of Pod?"

Sansa nodded again. 

"Do you think Pod would want you to be unhappy?"

"No, of course not," Sansa said, her voice garbled from crying. 

"And Jon was his best friend, so..."

Sansa shook her head. "That doesn't make it any easier. Somehow it makes it worse."

"How? Don't you think he'd be looking down from wherever he is and be cheering on the fact that his best friend and his wife - okay, I hear it now."

"It sounds like cheating."

"Does it _feel_ like cheating?"

"Why do you think I'm crying?!" 

Margaery sighed and nodded. "Okay, okay. I got you." She looked at Sansa hopelessly. "Sansa, I just...I don't think it will matter who you take up with after Pod--"

"I hadn't planned on taking up with anybody," Sansa muttered, wiping again at her eyes. 

Margaery's brows furrowed. "Ever?"

Sansa nodded once. "Ever."

"Oh, honey, no, that's just not realistic."

Sansa blinked. "How? I loved Pod. I had kids with Pod. He was all that I wanted and needed and now he's gone. I'm not going to find a man like him again."

"Maybe not exactly like him, no, but you did find someone.”

Sansa sighed. “Margaery.”

“Sansa, listen to me. You are still young; you still have years and years ahead of you. Do you really want to spend them alone?”

Sansa pursed her lips together. 

“Never have sex again? Never be held? Kissed?”

Sansa looked down. No, she didn’t want that. It had felt so good to be held and kissed by Jon. It was only almost four months since Pod had passed and already she was feeling lonely. But that was normal. She spent ten years with him. She had two kids with him and slept beside him every night. Of course she was going to feel lonely. That didn’t mean she jumped on the first available guy. And Jon was there every day, and was Pod’s best friend.

Was what she felt even real?

“What are you thinking?” Margaery asked worriedly. 

Sansa furrowed her brows. “What if what I feel for Jon is not even real? What if it’s just because I’m lonely and Jon’s there? And why am I lonely? Because my husband is dead and I’m grieving. It’s hard to go from sharing a bed and a life with someone to not having them there at all. What if I just put all that onto Jon?”

“Are you saying you’re in love with him?”

Sansa reared back. “No! God, Margaery, no. I…I have… _feelings_ , yes, but it’s not love.”

“What if it is actually Jon though that’s making you catch feelings, and all that other stuff is you overthinking everything?”

“But what if it’s not?”

“Would it be so terrible if you explored your feelings to find out?”

“Maybe… I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Maybe you won’t. You don’t know how things are going to go, Sansa. It’s a gamble you take in any kind of relationship that at some point someone could end up hurt. It’s not like you’re ever going to intentionally hurt him. You’re not like that. All you’re doing is seeing where these feelings you have for each other lead you.”

Sansa squeezed her eyes shut and let out a shuddering breath. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Of what, honey?”

Sansa popped her eyes opened and looked at her friend. “Of these feelings I have for another man. A man who is not my husband. Does this mean I’m forgetting Pod?”

“No, Sansa, no,” Margaery said and took Sansa’s hand in hers. “Honey, you’re never going to forget Pod. You’re just…moving on. And I know that’s a terrifying prospect, but it’s good too. It means you’re healing. Pod wouldn’t want you to stay alone for the rest of your life. He’d want you to be happy and honestly, I know it sounds a little weird, but don’t you think he’d be happy to know you were in good hands with his very best friend?”

Sansa wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know about that.”

Margaery laughed softly. “Yeah, I can see your point, but I also can’t help but think that if he was watching over you, he’d push you toward the guy he loved so much. Then he’d know you and the kids were in good hands, ya know?”

Sansa nodded slowly. “There is that, yes.”

“Look, I’m not saying you have to go home and fuck him—”

“Margaery.”

“I’m just saying that maybe you could just explore what you’re feeling for each other a little. See what happens. It doesn’t have to be serious, it doesn’t have to be heavy. Maybe you just hold hands. Kiss each other good night. It doesn’t have to be something hot and heavy.”

Sansa looked down at the tissue she held in her hands and started fiddling with it. “It feels weird to be talking about this with you after you and he…ya know. Fooled around.”

Margaery sighed. “Yeah, about that. I suppose I should take some responsibility. By the way he was talking about Pod and that letter you got, I could tell he wasn’t exactly in the right frame of mind that night. I probably did take some advantage of him.” She rolled her eyes. “I was thinking with my bean.”

“Margaery!” Sansa exclaimed. 

Margaery laughed. “Sorry. You and your delicate sensibilities.”

“I was jealous,” Sansa admitted softly. “That night and yesterday - I thought it was going to eat me alive.”

“Sansa, I’m so sorry,” Margaery said regretfully. “If I had known how you felt about him. Shit, if he had been honest and told me he was in – that he had feelings for you, I never would have…but he never said and now I know why.”

“Because he is struggling with his guilt, too.”

“Exactly. But I don’t want a man to come between us. Chicks before dicks.”

Sansa laughed and nodded. “Agreed.”

They slid off their respective stools and hugged. “So what are you going to do?” Margaery asked when they’d parted. 

Sansa sighed. “I have no idea.”

“Well, think about it. There’s no rush.”

Except there was a bit of one. Jon was waiting for her to decide what to do. That morning he hadn’t brought it up, but he’d been watching her closely. She’d felt his eyes on her all morning and it felt like a weight pressing down on her. She couldn’t keep him in limbo; she had to make a decision. 

Hopefully, the answer would come to her through the course of the work day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, on The Promise: Sansa makes a decision.


	22. Chapter 22

When Sansa arrived home that evening, the kids were outside playing and Jon was making dinner. She put her purse down on the counter and came over to the pan where he was pushing vegetables around and sniffed. “Smells good.”

“Stir-fry,” he told her. “Does it look good?”

“It does.”

Their eyes met and Sansa felt a jolt of nerves. There was a charge in the air already, just by a look. Was she already this hyper-aware of him? She turned away from him, heading for the pile of mail on the counter, in an attempt to calm herself. 

“How was your day?” Jon asked.

“Good,” she said as nonchalantly as possible as she began flipping through the millions of offers for credit cards.

To mention Margaery or not to mention Margaery? Was that why he’d asked how her day was? No, he asked her that every day. But after the weekend he had to be wondering if she and Margaery had talked. He had to know they had. So was he fishing for information?

“Sansa, did you hear me?”

She looked over at him, realizing then that he’d been speaking and she hadn’t been listening at all. “I didn’t. Say again?”

“I started looking for a job today.”

She looked at him in surprise. “Really? Here? Or…?”

He smiled humorlessly. “Here, Sansa. No matter…” He cleared his throat. “No matter what happens between us, I want to stay here in Winterfell with you and the kids. I realize I can’t live in this house forever, but I figured I’d start with a job first.” He turned so he was partially facing the pan, and partially facing her. He pushed the veggies around. “I don’t even know what I want to do.”

“You don’t want to teach?”

He sighed. “Not really. I might, just for money. And maybe write on the side. Or get a job as an editor if I can somewhere.”

“Hmmm, perhaps you could see if the local paper is hiring. I’m sure they’d snatch you up in a heartbeat. Do you think you'd like being a reporter?"

"Maybe not a reporter, but I could edit or something. Maybe write some puff pieces just to get my foot in the door and see if I like it and they like me."

"Can't hurt, right? Put your glasses on and you'd be a regular Clark Kent."

"I do look like a gigantic dork in them," he mused. 

"I like them," Sansa chirped. His look turned heated, and Sansa cleared her throat, "The kids will be happy you’re staying, though I’m sure it will be hard for them not having you here all the time.”

Jon nodded, looking down at the pan. “And you?” he asked. “Will you miss me not being here?”

“Of course,” she said. “That goes without saying.”

“Some things need to be said,” he said softly and looked at her with those soulful grey eyes of his. She sucked in a breath and was about to respond when Lyanna and Ned burst into the kitchen, asking when dinner was going to be ready.

After Jon and Sansa both answered them, and sent them to wash their hands, Sansa went to the cabinet and started to pull plates down to set the table. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” 

He looked a bit worried. “Yeah.”

xxxxxxx

Jon thought it best to prepare himself for the worst, so that's what he spent a torturous dinner and then bath time and bed time rituals doing - preparing for Sansa to rip his heart out and eat it in front of him. 

And what would he do if she did? Fight for her? Let it be? He wasn't sure. He was a novice at this love thing. He'd certainly never felt close to this with any other woman before. Pod had often teased him about his love life, how he just sort of drifted in and out of relationships and never seemed all that committed to making them last or putting in a lot of work. 

He'd just never met someone that he wanted to do any of those things with, but now, with Sansa, he found himself _wanting_ to do whatever it took for her to just give him a chance. But would he? She was grieving. There were the kids to consider. Her family. The fact that he was Pod's best friend and on some level this could feel like an even worse betrayal to her. To him, too. 

And yet...and yet...

Now he found himself preparing for the worst and considering a counter-argument which he was certain made him a bit of an asshole. Or, at least he sort of felt like one. 

When it was time, when Ned and Lyanna were both tucked in, Jon got himself a beer and poured Sansa a wine while he waited for her to join him. His hands were shaking. His heart was thumping hard. He felt like a teenager. Like a lovesick fool. This was probably why he'd avoided this falling in love business for so long. He felt as though his heart was bleeding out already. 

When he heard her footfalls on the stairs he thought he might explode. He just wanted her to come into the room and tell him yes or no, and cut out all the small talk. He stood, ready to greet her as soon as she walked in. 

Except, she was bent on making small talk.Or at least bent on rambling on about Ned and his blankie. 

"Sansa, put me out of my misery," he blurted out, interrupting her and feeling like an ass for doing so. She fell silent and went expressionless. "I'm sorry," he croaked. "I just - I need to know what you're thinking, what you're feeling, if you're going to give me - give _us_ \- a chance or...?"

She nodded. 

He stepped forward, feeling hope and afraid to really believe in it. "Yes, you are going to give me a chance?"

She nodded again, exhaling slowly as though mustering her strength. 

"Say it, please," he whispered. "I just need to hear you say it."

"Jon--"

"Look at me?"

She looked up, frowned. "You've gotten awfully demanding."

He huffed out a short laugh. "You've got my heart in your hands, Sansa. I just need to be sure."

She looked startled by that, but he didn't elaborate. No way was she ready to hear him tell her he was in love with her. She might run screaming from him at that point, and already she reminded him of a wild animal. One false move and she'd bolt. He didn't want her to bolt anywhere but his arms. 

"I had a long talk with Margaery this morning," she said, one hand playing with the end of the sleeve of her night shirt. 

"So she didn't completely vilify me?"

"Not completely, no. In fact, she kind of encouraged me to...see what happens."

Jon nodded slowly, his breathing slowly going back to normal. "And that's what you want? To see what happens?"

"I'm not ready to jump into anything with both feet right now, Jon," she told him, sounding apologetic of all things. Like she had anything to apologize for. "I am still wrestling with trying not to feel as though I'm cheating on Pod in some way."

"I get that," he said hoarsely. 

"But I...have feelings too and as Margaery so wisely pointed out, it's not realistic to spend the rest of my life alone and nothing has to be set in stone. We can just...well, we can see where this takes us. Right?"

"You have feelings too," he said, moving closer to her. "For me."

The corner of her mouth turned up at the side. "You want clarification on that, too?"

He nodded, and moved even closer. 

"Ok then," she said and heaved a big sigh, straightening her arms out to her sides. "I have feelings for you, Jon. I'm kind of afraid of them, but I am willing to see what happens if you want to."

Jon, now within arms reach of her, reached for her. He then dropped his hand and looked at her. "Can I kiss you again, Sansa? Hold you?"

She bit her lip and nodded. Jon forced himself to not yank her to him and devour her the way he wanted to. He didn't want to scare her. Instead, he gently slid his arm around her waist and drew her up against him. He then cupped her face in his hands and forced her to look at him. This would be the moment he would tell her he loved her and that he was afraid too. Probably not for all the same reasons. 

He was afraid of losing her before they could even begin - that she could change her mind, that the guilt would be too much. He was afraid to not be what she needed or wanted, that _he_ might not be enough when she was already so much more than he could have hoped for. Definitely more than he felt he deserved, especially now in light of being in love with his best friend's wife. 

He said, "I'm afraid too," and left it at that before capturing her lips in an achingly slow kiss. He learned the taste of her, the way her lips moved against his. He angled his head and the kiss deepened, his hands moving to her waist to anchor her against him. He felt her arms go around him and he felt himself start to slip on that slippery slope of wanting more, needing more - far more than he should ask for and far more than she could give. 

He pulled back when he felt the desire begin to overcome him. He pressed his forehead to hers and they breathed together, soft puffs of air he could feel on his face. 

"I'll take your lead," he whispered. "You set the pace."

She lifted her head, looking at him in something akin to fear. "I - Jon, I have no idea what I'm doing. I’m _years_ out of practice. I need some direction."

"What do you _want_ to do?" he asked. God love her, asking him for help when he hadn't a clue. 

She looked down at his mouth and Jon had to bite back a groan. "I'd like for you to kiss me again," she whispered, as though she was telling him a secret. 

He didn't need to be asked twice. He bridged the gap between them, claiming her mouth hungrily, the force of it pushing her back a bit. She giggled and he laughed huskily, nipping at her lips, and then kissed her hungrily again. _I love you,_ he thought. _I love you I love you I love you. Please love me back._

"I want to take you out," he told her, dropping kisses on her cheeks, her jaw, and the tip of her nose. "I want to take you out on a date."

She frowned, moving her hands to rest on his chest. "I'm not sure that's a good idea, Jon. I'm not ready for anyone else to know, not until we're sure."

That stung a bit. Not the fact that she wanted to wait to tell people, he got that part. But that she wasn't sure yet. _Patience_ , he told himself. _You're pages ahead of her, just calm the fuck down._

"Surely we can go out to dinner once in a while, or even lunch, and no one would think anything of it."

"They would if we both got dressed up."

"Then we'll have our dates here," he murmured. "Next weekend, Ned and Lyanna are spending the night at Robb's right?"

Sansa nodded, playing with the collar of his shirt and driving him fucking mad. He wanted to grab her hand and nibble on her fingers. _Jesus, Snow, you've got it bad._

She nodded, a smile curving her lips. Now he wanted to nibble on those. 

He kissed her again, quickly, sharply, and murmured. "I'll pick you up at your door."

She laughed softly. 

"I'll get dinner all ready for us."

"How about we make it easy and do take-out?"

"Whatever you want. Anything you want."

"That might be dangerous, Jon."

He grinned. "I can handle it." _I'm yours._

"And we'll both dress up?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'll escort you to dinner and we'll eat and..."

"And go to the living room for some dancing?"

He frowned. "I'm not a very good dancer. I can't dance at all, actually."

"You can just hold me and sway."

He smiled and began to do just that, putting his weight on one foot and then the other. "Like this?"

She smiled. "Exactly like this."

“And I can kiss you?” he said softly.

Her smile was shy. “Maybe I will kiss you instead,” she said and did so. 

Jon brought one hand up to cradle the side of her face. The words were there; they were _right there._

Sansa was the one to end the kiss and Jon had to stop himself from chasing her lips with his own. He wanted to kiss her until his lips were raw. 

She smiled at him, shyly again, and pulled away. “Goodnight, Jon. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He didn’t want her to go, but figured she needed some time to process all this. He just feared what would happen when she was done. Would she change her mind?

“Goodnight,” he forced himself to say. 

She wiggled her fingers at him as she headed for the stairs and Jon stood there, watching her go until she was out of sight.


	23. Chapter 23

The next morning when Sansa entered the kitchen, Lyanna in front of her, complaining about having to go to school, Jon watched Sansa closely, looking for any sign that she regretted last night. He had woken early that morning, convinced she was going to take it all back and tell him, no, she wasn't going to give them a chance at all. 

When she looked at him now though, she smiled a bit and a blush colored her cheeks. He grinned as he handed her a mug of coffee. She took it gratefully and sipped it. "Mmmm, you're the best, thank you."

He couldn't take his eyes off her as he finished preparing breakfast for them all; he just wanted so badly a minute alone with her. Make sure she was okay, and perhaps steal a kiss or two...or three. 

However, a minute alone was not meant to be. Not with Ned and Lyanna both in sour moods that morning and demanding their attention. Corralling them out the door proved difficult, and all Sansa was able to say to him was, "I'll see you later, Jon. Have a good day."

And then she was gone, he was alone, and he already wanted her back. 

xxxxxxxxxx

"And?" Margaery asked as soon as Sansa entered the bakery. 

Sansa laughed. "Wow. Already?"

"Of course already! What happened?"

Sansa bit her lip and smiled a bit coyly. "I told him I'd give him a chance."

Margaery let out a whoop. "He must have been over the moon, tell me he was over the moon."

"I think so. He kissed me like he was, but it was kind of weird, too..."

"How so?"

"I don't know, I just got the sense that he was holding back a little. His body was so tense, like he was containing himself...I don't think he even realized it."

"He probably didn't want to scare you. Was it awkward for you this morning? Did you regret it?"

Sansa sighed as she sat down on one of the stools and watched Margaery dole out some sugar cookie dough onto a baking sheet. "I...I had a moment when I woke up. I thought of Pod, as I normally do, and then I thought of Jon and what Pod might think."

"He'd be happy you're happy. Are you happy?"

Sansa got up and went to the fridge to pull out a container of snickerdoodle dough that she'd made the day before. She placed it on the counter and looked at her friend, hip against the metal counter. "I don't know. Is that awful to say? I liked kissing him. A lot. It…scares me how much because I sort of feel like I lose myself in his kisses. I even initiated a kiss once to see how it would feel to do that. I just...when do I stop automatically thinking of Pod after every time I kiss Jon?"

"You just started making out with him, Sansa," Margaery said. "You have to give it some time. You're not used to the idea yet; it's still all very new and you're still healing. Focus on the parts you like, which sound amazing by the way, and allow yourself to feel what you feel after.”

Sansa nodded, feeling tears start to form. "I guess I just--" her voice wobbled as she spoke, "I'm afraid what it’ll mean when I’m healed. Does being with Jon mean I have to stop loving Pod?" 

Margaery stopped what she was doing, pulled off the plastic gloves she wore, and went over to Sansa. She hugged her tight, letting Sansa cry into her shoulder. "Oh, sweetness, no. You don't stop loving Pod just because you have feelings for Jon. It doesn't work that way. It just means you'll love Pod in a different way, that's all. You know what I think?"

"No, what?" Sansa asked mournfully. 

"I think the healing has begun and it terrifies you."

Sansa didn't reply; she didn't have to. Her friend was right. 

xxxxxxxxxx

"Whoa-ho, Snow!" Tormund laughed loudly into the phone, causing Jon to roll his eyes and hold the phone away from his ear. When his friend stopped laughing, Jon put the phone back to his ear and waited for the "I told you so's."

"Did I not warn you?" Tormund said, amusement laced through his tone. "Gorgeous Sansa, indeed."

"She's more than that," Jon said defensively. "She's smart and kind and funny, and she's a great mother--"

"Jesus, you have it bad. What exactly is the nature of these feelings you say you have for her, Snow?"

"I'm in love with her, Tormund."

Silence. 

"You there?" Jon asked. 

"I thought at most you'd just want to get your dick wet," Tormund finally said. 

"Don't be crude," Jon said sternly. "Don't talk about Sansa like that."

"Does she know?"

Jon sighed, leaning back on the couch, digging his head into the cushion and shutting his eyes. "She doesn't know. She knows I have feelings for her because I told her, but she doesn't know just how deep they go."

"I wouldn't tell her just yet."

"I'm not going to. I just - I feel like an asshole."

"Why? Cause your friend's dead?"

Jon winced at Tormund's frankness. "Yeah," he said. "Exactly that. She's still grieving. She wants to see what happens and not put any pressure on it."

"So, she's not ready to commit to your sorry ass is what you're saying."

"Don't say it like that," Jon said brusquely. "Like there's something wrong with her."

"For fuck's sake, you sure do get twisted up in knots over Gorgeous Sansa. I don't recollect you being like this with Ygritte."

"Because I wasn't," Jon said simply. 

"Always wondered when it would happen to you. You always seemed the type to have it happen, and happen often. Seems you were smarter than I gave you credit for. Or at least your heart was." He laughed again. "Well, maybe. You did just go and fall in love with a dead man's wife."

"Tormund, no offense, but what the hell are you talking about?"

"Love, Snow. I'm talking about love. You've gotten bit by it, and bit hard."

"No shit. Now what the hell do I do about it?"

"I think you already know what to do about it. You're doing it. You told her how you felt, sort of, and I know you're going to respect her boundaries and give her the time she needs. What is it you're really asking me?"

Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know."

"Nah, that's not right. You do know. Are you looking for me to tell it's okay to be in love with your friend's wife?"

Tears gathered in Jon's eyes. "Yes," he said hoarsely. 

"He's dead, Jon. You're alive and so is she. You went out there to do what you could to help her because you loved him enough to look out for his family. You're a good man and he knew it. She knows it too, or she wouldn't be giving you this chance. Guilt isn't going to get you anywhere. Would you rather give her up, watch her move on with someone else all because of some dead man."

"No," Jon said. _And he's not just some dead man_ , he thought. "There is one other thing though..."

"What's that?"

Jon proceeded to tell him all about the contract. How Pod had been drunk and yet weirdly adamant, how Jon had signed it because he was drunk too and thought it was a joke. 

"And you still have it?" Tormund asked. 

"It's in my journal."

"Well, you certainly followed his wishes, didn't you?" Tormund was laughing again. 

"What if the feelings I have - what if it's not real? What if the contract just got in my subconscious—"

"Bull. Shit. Come on, Snow. That's not how it works. Tell me two things that annoy you about her."

"She's stubborn as hell, and she never rinses her coffee cup out."

"It's real," Tormund said simply. 

"How the fuck did you get there?"

"Because you can see her faults. Her warts, if you will. If you couldn't name anything that drove you batshit I'd say you were infatuated. But you named two right away. You're in love."

"You're a weird little man, you know that?" Jon laughed. 

"Little? Fuck you. I'll bet my pecker is bigger than yours!"

Jon laughed harder. "One day, when I'm settled, you'll have to come out here and visit."

"You know I will. Listen, word of advice?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Gorgeous Sansa about that contract. Because if you landed on thinking maybe all your feelings aren't real and is just a byproduct of that contract, then she will too. In fact, burn the goddamn thing and put it out of your mind."

"I have no intention on telling her about it. I know she'd think the worst, and I wouldn't be able to blame her for that."

"Burn it. Be done with it. Out of sight, out of mind."

Jon laughed. "All right all right. I'll burn it. So, tell me, what's going on over there anyway?"

xxxxxxxxx

The kids were in bed and Jon was downstairs waiting for her. After dinner, he’d managed to discreetly ask her if she was going to meet him in the living room after the kids were in bed. She’d said yes. He said he’d have a glass of wine ready for her. 

Now, she stood in front of her mirror in her bedroom and looked herself over. She had changed when she got home since there was no way to not end up with some baking ingredients on her, so she was currently wearing black yoga pants and a long-sleeved gray shirt. Her hair was pulled back, and she still had some makeup on. 

It wasn’t as though Jon hadn’t seen her in this or some variation of it before. But now… well, now she felt frumpy. Now she felt like she should change into something else. But what? If she changed again he’d know and wonder why. Then she’d have to tell him and that would be giving too much away. 

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. She pulled her hair out of the ponytail and brushed it out. Then she grabbed a bottle of her favorite body spray – perfume would be too heavy and obvious – and spritzed herself with it. 

She opened her bureau drawer and dug around until she found a blue – no. Overkill. He’d know. She shut her drawer with conviction, and marched out of her room and down the stairs. 

She stopped in her tracks when she found Jon had lit a few candles, dimmed the lights, and put on some soft music. There was a glass of wine and a bottle of beer on the coffee table and he was standing there in the middle of the room looking about as awkward as she felt. 

“Is it overkill?” he asked, wincing as he looked around the room. “I don’t want to freak you out.”

Sansa scrunched up her face as if to say, _maybe a little._ “Perhaps we could turn up the lights?”

He bolted to the switch and started to apologize. Sansa laughed softly at how cute he was and when he turned around after turning the lights up, looking a bit wounded, Sansa went to him and put her hand on his arm. “I’m not laughing at you. I’m sorry. It’s just that it was cute how you practically ran to turn up the lights. It was sweet.”

He looked down at her hand on his arm and then up at her. She started to move her hand away and he grabbed it quickly and squeezed. “Everything else okay?” he asked huskily. 

She nodded. “Yes.”

“Dance with me?”

“You can’t dance, remember?”

“Yeah, but then someone taught me how to sway,” he said with a grin. “I figured this time we could have some music.”

“Hence the music?”

He laughed softly. “Exactly.”

“I’d like that.”

“I need to practice for our date after all.”

“Maybe we could work something out so we don’t have to stay here. Dinner out at least?”

“I’d like that,” he whispered and then led her to the middle of the living room. He pulled her in close, one arm wrapped around her and their free hands clasped together, up and off to the side in a classic dancing pose. 

Slowly, they swayed to the music while catching up on their day. Sansa left out her conversation with Margaery. He didn’t need to know about that. 

“So, is the extension almost done then?” she asked. 

“Very soon. I had to return some wood today. It was moldy. I’m sorry this is taking so long, San. Sandor was right. I really have no clue what I’m doing. Without his help, I would have been much further behind than I already am.”

“It’s fine, Jon. Just as long as it’s finished before the winter.”

“Definitely before then.”

They danced, or rather swayed, in silence for a bit. When Sansa dared to look up at him, she found him watching her intensely. There was hunger in his eyes, and tension in his face. 

He wanted her. Sansa could see it plainly on his face. 

It sent a jolt through her. Not an unpleasant one. It was a jolt of awareness, of excitement. 

“Jon,” she whispered. 

He dipped his head in closer and they stopped swaying completely. “Sansa,” he whispered. “You smell delicious. You always do…”

“I—I do?”

“Yes. Sansa?”

“Hmmm?”

“Will you kiss me?”

“Only if you don’t hold back,” she whispered back. 

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. 

He heaved a shuddering sigh. “Kiss me, Sansa, now, before I lose my mi—”

She didn’t even let him finish. She pressed her lips to his swiftly. They stood there, lips just making contact, and then he dipped his head just so, sucked on her bottom lip gently and then took her mouth fully. 

He didn’t just kiss her. It was as though he was consuming her. He was starved and she was his feast. One hand went to the back of her head, the other like a band around her waist. Sansa meanwhile wrapped her arms around his waist. She felt her knees might buckle at any moment from the intensity of the kiss. 

Well, she’d asked for it. 

She wasn’t sure who moaned when his tongue touched hers. She gripped him, feeling dizzy. She broke the kiss, gasping, and Jon chased her lips, capturing them. “Jon,” she whispered, breaking the kiss again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he rasped. 

“It’s okay,” she said, laughing nervously. “I asked for it, didn’t I?”

His laugh was laced with uncertainty. “Yeah…”

“It’s okay,” she said and cupped the side of his face with her hand. “It feels good to feel…passion. It’s been a long time…”

“For me too,” he admitted frankly. 

“Poor Jon. You get stuck with the widow,” she joked. 

“I happen to be crazy about the widow.”

Sansa’s breath caught at that, and not just from the words, but from the look on his face, too. “I—I think I need to go to bed now.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he said softly. 

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Good night, Jon.”

He smiled and drew her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

She laughed softly and headed to her bedroom, feeling slightly drunk. Only she hadn’t had any wine.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. I'm sorry! I sort of hit a wall with this fic (and others). And I hate that feeling of going back to a fic after not spending much time with it and feeling a little lost. I feel like I lost my momentum so hopefully this is okay and I can get back into the swing of things here.

Over the course of the next week, Sansa began to allow herself by degrees to feel that heady feeling of being desired. She was still grappling with feeling desire for Jon, but she was pretty certain he was intent on dismantling the walls she’d put up. 

It wasn’t as though it was a conscious thing, her putting up a few walls. And she felt rather guilty for them considering she had told him not to hold back, but then she did. 

She liked Jon – a lot, more than she thought she could like another man after Pod. And she desired him, too. Again, more than she thought was possible after Pod, and that scared her. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Jon. She did. She knew he was a good man and that he would never set out to hurt her, but she knew she held a part of herself back from him. 

When all was said and done, she was still getting used to this new development between them. And, though she and Pod had never lacked passion in their marriage, this with Jon was different. She and Pod had settled into their life the way married couples with kids do. There were times when sex was a scheduled thing because, well, kids. 

She never felt undesired with Pod, but the intensity was not the same as it had been in the beginning, and was now with Jon. She knew that eventually the intensity would pass over time with Jon, too. If they even got that far. She wasn’t a girl with stars in her eyes and romantic films in her head anymore. She was a widow and a single mother of two now. She’d experienced loss on a deep level and had learned the hard way that nothing lasted forever, change was inevitable, and life was random. So, no, she wasn’t putting all her eggs in Jon’s basket. She wasn’t sure if she’d even put one in there. She was just…exploring. Seeing where it went, and not putting any sort of pressure on it. 

It was freeing, a lot scary, but the alternative – putting any kind of label on their relationship and making a commitment – was not something she was ready for. 

Now, on this cool late September afternoon, Jon had surprised her by coming to the bakery with lunch. He’d made it at home so it was nothing fancy, but it had been a wonderful surprise nonetheless. 

While Margaery manned the bakery, Sansa and Jon went in the back of the shop where Sansa had a little cast iron table and chairs set out for their breaks, and a bench that Pod and Sandor had made for her. There was a hill behind the bakery that led up to a thatch of trees, and off to the right of them was the dumpster. It wasn’t much out here, but it was away from prying eyes. 

Now, munching on sandwiches and chips, the pair sat together on the bench. Sansa noted how when they were alone like this together, Jon pressed himself against her as though their bodies were magnets. It added to that heady feeling of being desired and though it scared her a little and she had the inclination to put some space between them, she forced herself to stay put. 

He told her about how the dry wall had to be put up with Sandor’s help, and that he’d sent his resume to the local newspaper. She told him about the difficult mother who had come in that morning to order a cake for her son’s birthday, and how she was concerned that Neddy’s sniffles that morning was more cold than allergies. 

And then, when the last bit of the food was gone, Jon turned her face to his and kissed her. He kissed her every chance he got. He’d even taken to sneaking kisses in the morning before she shooed the kids out the door and left for work. 

Then there were the nights on the couch after the kids were asleep. Inevitably, Sansa would end up on his lap sideways and he would kiss her until her lips were numb. His hands kept to her face or her waist, he never attempted to feel her up as she thought he might. Sometimes, she wanted him to. Other times she was happy he hadn’t yet tried. Was she ready for that? She wasn’t sure. 

“How is it that l live with you, I see you every day, and I’m still so addicted to you?” he murmured against her mouth. 

She laughed. “I’m not sure. I mean, you see me with bedhead.”

Well, not so much anymore, she thought. She had taken to making sure she was always presentable when she came downstairs in the morning. Even if it was on a lazy Sunday – she made sure she brushed her hair or at least pulled it back and that her face was washed. She was conscious of the fact that she wanted to look good for Jon. 

“Are you a witch then?” he asked, nuzzling at her neck. “Have you put a spell on me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, goosebumps raising on her skin at the feel of his lips on her pulse point. 

“Awww, isn’t this sweet?”

Sansa jerked away from Jon who sighed heavily and reluctantly parted from her. He looked over at Margaery who was smirking at them both. 

Now everything felt weird. The fact that Jon had fooled around with Margaery was not something she had just forgotten about. Yes, Margaery supported them and yes, Jon had come clean about having feelings for Sansa, but she couldn’t quite get it out of her head that while Jon had not actually had sex with Margaery, he had still gotten quite far with her. 

She shifted away from him and Jon reached out quickly and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it. She could feel his eyes on her, but she looked over at Margaery instead. “Everything okay?’

“Peachy with a side of keen,” Margaery said. “Just wanted to know if you wanted me to start on that birthday cake?”

Sansa nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

“No problem.” Then she smirked. “As you were.”

The mood felt a bit killed, so Sansa pulled her hand from Jon’s and stood. “I should help her,” she said. “Thank you for bringing lunch. This was a nice surprise.”

He cocked his head to the side, studying her. “You okay?”

She feigned confusion. “Of course, why?”

“It sort of felt as though a cool front came in as soon as Margaery came out here.”

She shook her head and picked at an imaginary piece of lint on her shirt. “Don’t be silly.”

He stood, placed his hands on her hips, and pulled against him. “Sansa, does it still bother you? What she and I did?”

“Not when you’re home and she’s here, no,” she muttered. 

“Sweet girl,” he murmured and kissed her. “If only you knew how much you did not have anything to worry about.”

“It’s not so much having something to worry about, it’s more that you did things with her that you…”

“That I…?”

“Jon, honestly, I really need to get back to work,” she said and tried to push away from him. 

“I hear communication is important in a relationship, Sansa. Wouldn’t you agree?”

She glared at him. “You did things with her that you haven’t done with me.”

His eyes went wide and then they went dark. He leaned and said roughly against her lips, “Do you want me to do those things to you?”

“Not yet,” she said quickly. “I’m not…there yet, but I do…I mean, I do think about it, Jon.”

“Good,” he rasped and kissed her. “I like that you think about the things I want to do to you.”

She hit him playfully. “Jon!”

He laughed and kissed her quickly. “I know you have to go back inside, but there is one more thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“Our date, sweet girl. I want to take you out to that diner you like so much on Depot Street.”

“The Depot Street Diner?” she asked excitedly. 

He smiled. “Yes. It falls into your criteria of not too fancy so people wouldn’t think anything of us going out for a meal together.”

She smiled. “It’s perfect. And I’m dying for their ribs.”

“I thought you liked my ribs?” he asked with a bit of a pout. 

“Oh honey, I do, but I’ve always loved their ribs. What? Why are you smiling like that?”

“You called me honey. Did you even realize?”

She hadn’t. It had just come out. She used to call Pod ‘honey’ too. 

His smile fell and Sansa realized that her own had fallen and that he was probably looking at her a bit sadly because it had. “Did you used to call Pod ‘honey’ too?” he asked. 

“Yes, but… but I mean it’s so silly, right? I call the kids honey too. And it’s common, right?” she rambled. “People use it a lot. It’s like calling someone ‘sweetheart’ or you calling me ‘baby’ or ‘sweet girl’. You’ve probably called other women ‘sweet girl’—”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Only you.”

“Oh.”

“I’ve never actually been one for pet names. With you though….” He shrugged. “They just come out of me.”

“Oh. Well, now I feel even worse…”

“I don’t know, I just do. I…” She sighed. “It just came out.”

“I don’t mind. It means you feel comfortable enough with me to use a pet name.”

“But now I feel like if I’m going to use a pet name it should not be one I called Pod.”

He grinned. “What do you want it to be then?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I’ll need to think about it.” That was a bit of a lie. She hadn’t meant to call him ‘honey’ and the fact that she had rattled her a bit. They weren’t there yet. _She_ wasn’t there yet. Okay, yes, they had been living together for a couple months now and he was part of their family, and she did care about him a great deal, but…

But it didn’t feel okay yet. 

“You do that,” he said and kissed her one last time before releasing her. “See you at home.”

She smiled. “See you at home. Thanks again for lunch.”

“You don’t have to thank me, San,” he said, his hand on the back door and his body turned toward her. “I like doing things for you.”

She knew he did. Jon was very thoughtful and sweet to her. She wiggled her fingers at him in a wave, unsure of what to say to that and feeling a bit nervous because, well, this was just so very new to her.

He waved and was gone, and Sansa let out a sigh so big it was as though she had been holding her breath the entire time. She put her hands on her hips and rocked back and forth on her feet. 

_I’m not doing anything wrong,_ she thought, _and Pod would be happy for me. Out of everyone on the planet, he would prefer Jon over some schmoe he didn’t know. You’re just seeing what happens so calm down. There are no labels to be put on this yet. You’re fine._

She wondered when she would have to stop talking herself down. It was just that being around Jon was so heady and exciting and he made her feel so many things….

 _You’re fine. Calm down._

The door opened and Margeary ducked her head out. “Help!”

Thankful for the reprieve, Sansa went back to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My biggest worry is the pacing. I'm not sure if Sansa is going too slow, too fast, or at just the right pace. I just made her sound a bit like Goldilocks. What do you guys think?


	25. Chapter 25

Jon wondered if Sansa realized how well they worked together. Like a well-oiled machine. For example, at that moment, they were getting the kids ready for their night at Robb's and when Lyanna started arguing with her mother over a dress she wanted to pack, Jon strolled in to handle it when they started to bicker, and Sansa walked out and went to help Ned. 

The dress Lyanna wanted never made it into her overnight bag. 

He then helped her corral the kids to the door when Robb showed up, and helped her put their bags in Robb's truck. Sansa ran into the house to grab Neddy's allergy medicine and the kids followed her "just in case" there was something they forgot to pack. Like, perchance, a dress. When Jon and Robb were alone, Robb looked over at Jon as they stood beside his truck with arched brows. 

Jon frowned. "What?"

"You and Sansa. You're like...well, you're like a little family here.”

Why did he make it sound like a bad thing? "I have been here for a while now helping out. Things were bound to get comfortable."

Robb nodded. "Yeah, sure, let's go with that."

Thankfully, they were saved by Sansa and the kids pouring out of the house. 

"Uncle Robb," Lyanna began as she came up to Robb, "Do I need a dress for anything?"

Robb frowned. "A dress?" He discreetly glanced up at Sansa, while appearing as though he was pondering if Lyanna did in fact need a dress or not. His brows were furrowed and his mouth was turned down as though deep in thought. Sansa shook her head emphatically. Jon had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at their antics "No," Robb said finally with a shake of his head as he looked back down at Lyanna. "You definitely don't need a dress."

Lyanna frowned at her uncle and then looked witheringly at Sansa as she made her way to the backseat. "Well, isn't that convenient?"

All three of them looked at one another and while Jon and Sansa looked away so Lyanna couldn't see them laugh, Robb let loose with a belly laugh. 

Lyanna looked mighty proud of herself as she sat beside Ned in the backseat. While Sansa opened the backseat door to say her goodbyes and make sure they were all buckled in, Robb nodded Jon. "What are you and Sansa going to do tonight?"

"Probably just hang out. We might get a bite to eat at The Depot Diner," Jon replied, hoping he sounded like this was just any other night in. 

“Together?” Robb asked. 

Jon rolled his eyes. “Yeah, why not? Should we take turns?”

Robb just looked at him. 

“What?” Jon asked tersely. 

"Nothin'," Robb said and jogged around to the driver’s side. 

Sansa shut the door and came to stand beside Jon as Robb climbed in the truck and started it up. He rolled down the passenger side window and shouted, "We're gonna watch horror movies and eat gummy worms all night, right kids?"

"Yeah!" Neddy and Lyanna cheered enthusiastically, pumping their tiny little fists in the air. 

Sansa just sighed and rolled her eyes and Jon chuckled, waving to the kids. 

Once Robb was out of the driveway and then out of sight, Jon and Sansa turned toward each other at the same time. 

_We're in sync_ , he thought. _Does she see that?_

"Jon, can I ask you a question?" she asked. 

Shit. He didn't like the sound of this already. "Yes?"

"Why is my mug in the sink with bleach in it?"

He laughed. "Because, Sansa, you drive me batshit with how you never rinse or wash it. Have you ever noticed how brown it is inside?"

She laughed. "So now you're bleaching it out for me?"

"Damn right I am. It grosses me out every time I fill your coffee cup in the morning and see this brown wasteland inside."

She laughed again as she started for the house. Jon followed behind her, wishing he could kiss her outside in the open. His gaze strayed to her ass in the low rise jeans she wore and he itched to hook his arm around her waist and draw her back against him. He waited until they were inside the house and the door was closed before he did. 

She let out a little squeal and then stiffened a bit before relaxing in his embrace. He nuzzled at her neck, bare since her hair was up in a ponytail, and tried to ignore the flash of irritation he’d felt when she'd stiffened. She did that a lot when he touched her. Well, at first. Then she'd relax, but he wouldn't say she exactly _melted_ the way he wanted her to. 

He kept telling himself that he had to be patient with her, that she was still getting used to this, and it had only been all of two weeks now since they'd started "dating". But he had to admit, he found it rather hard. Namely because he knew she was holding back on him. After she'd asked him to let go and to not hold back, she had instead. So now he felt he had to. 

At night when they were together and she was in his arms and on his lap on the couch, he kept his hands respectfully at her waist. If she only knew how much he wanted to touch her, explore her...and he knew, he _knew_ he could not be _that guy_. He would not. So he waited. And hoped she would let down some walls. Clue him in to how she felt about him, not keep herself at such a distance, and hope that she would give him the green light to touch her more than on her waist. 

He nipped at her ear, smiling when he felt her hands cover his on her stomach, and when she tilted her head to the side to give him better access. It was as though she had to give herself a speech too - that this was okay. That she was not betraying Pod. He knew the deal; he often had to talk himself down to, but more and more his feelings for Sansa grew. And more and more, he was starting to reconcile himself that his feelings for Sansa did not mean he was a shitty best friend. 

For the first time in his life he was in love and now that he was getting past the guilt, he just wanted to embrace what he felt. He wanted her to do the same even though he knew she wasn't in the same place he was. He just really really really wanted her to be. 

He knew logically that he couldn't make Sansa fall in love with him, but he still found himself wondering if he could. If he got her favorite wine, did the laundry so she didn't have to, and made dinner for them every night - could he ingratiate himself so much in her life and the life of the kids that she would never want to let him go?

"As much as I said I didn't think I would dress up," she said. "I think I might just a little."

"You're in danger of making it look like a date," he warned her teasingly. 

"Well, I'm not going to put on a dress or anything, but I feel rather grubby right now."

"You don't look grubby," he murmured and bit down lightly on the curve of her neck. "And you smell good enough to eat."

She let out a soft moan - that was encouraging - and Jon spun her around in his arms and kissed her passionately. "Are you looking forward to our date, sweet girl?" he asked. 

"I am," she breathed. 

"I thought I'd pick you up at the door, just like a real date. And then when we got home—"

"We could dance?" she asked hopefully with a small smile. 

He nodded and kissed her again. And again. And again. 

Then she pushed him away, laughing. She wagged a finger at him as she started going up the stairs backwards. "You're going to have to earn your kisses on our date, Mister," she said with a flirtatious smile on her face. 

He grinned up at her and climbed up a step. "Oh? And what do I have to do to earn your kisses, Sansa?"

She went up two steps and looked down at him thoughtfully. "I'm not sure yet. I'll let you know when you've earned them. I'll kiss you when you have."

He climbed a few steps more, liking this game of cat-and-mouse, but when he reached for her, she turned tail and ran. He chased after her, and she squealed, laughing when he caught her in front of her bedroom door. He kissed the back of her neck, her collarbone and her shoulder. "I'll ring the doorbell. How long do you need?"

"Just twenty minutes."

He kissed the back of her neck again and released her. She smiled at him as she wiggled her fingers in a wave as she closed her bedroom door. 

Okay. Maybe she was starting to thaw a bit then? God, he hoped so. 

xxxxxxxxx

Sansa leaned against her bedroom door after she shut it and let out a sigh. Not an unhappy sigh. Not a sad sigh. A sigh of "Oh-my-God-I'm-so- nervous-even-though-I-shouldn't-be-because-this-is-Jon-and-I know-him." She put her hand over her belly. Butterflies. She had butterflies. She hadn't had butterflies like this since...  
Yeah, it had been a while. 

She pushed away from the door and went to her closet. What to wear what to wear what to wear....

Nothing too fancy, and yet she didn't want to look like a grub. Plus, she had to keep in mind she was going to a diner. 

She remembered when she and Pod would have date nights. She would always go out and get something special because after they had kids those date nights were few and far between. 

Maybe she should have gotten something special for tonight? Didn't matter. She wasn't dressing to the nines, she was going to a diner with Jon. 

So, she picked out a pair of black pants that clung to her like a second skin, and a soft blue sweater that brought out her eyes. She kept her hair pulled back and just brushed it out a bit before applying some light makeup, and dabbing on the perfume Jon seemed to like so much. 

She had just slipped on her flats when the doorbell rang. She giggled to herself and hurried from the room, thinking she couldn’t remember the last time she had ever been this giddy. She couldn’t even recall a recent memory with Pod…

Sansa ignored the twinge of guilt she felt and made her way down the stairs. She opened the door and there stood Jon with a bouquet of several different kinds of flowers. Her eyes went wide. “Jon! When did you get these?”

“This afternoon before you got home,” he said. “I hid them in my room in a vase.”

She noted then there were several sheets of damp paper towels wrapped around the stems. She buried her face in the bouquet and inhaled. “Jon, these are gorgeous, thank you.”

“You’re always looking at them when we go to the market, but you never get any for yourself,” he explained. 

She beamed at him over the flowers. “Can I just put these back in the water?”

“The vase is already in the kitchen,” he told her with a grin. 

Smiling, she traipsed off to the kitchen where, sure enough there the vase was on the counter. She unwrapped them from the paper towels and then place them inside. She gently fingered the petal of a ginger lily and sniffed a daisy. Jon came up behind her, put his hands on her hips, and drew her back against him, his chin on her shoulder. “Like them, sweet girl?”

“I love them,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

“Do they earn me a kiss?”

She giggled as she turned and leaned in as though she was about to kiss him. He puckered and closed his eyes, and she sailed away from him, laughing. 

“You little minx,” he growled and ran after her. 

She laughed and gave him chase again, this time right out the door after snagging her purse off an end table. 

Once outside, they stopped their game and walked to his car at a normal pace and side-by-side. Sansa looked over at him and bit her lip. He was wearing black boots, black skinny jeans, and a black sweater. “You changed too,” she murmured. 

“I did,” he said. He stopped at the passenger side door and turned to face her. He took her hands in his and she darted a glance at the street, as though she expected someone to come charging over and asking just what she thought she was doing. 

“Sansa,” Jon said softly, bringing her focus back on him. 

She looked at him. 

“No one can see me holding your hands,” he said, looking at her searchingly. “Okay?”

She heaved a sigh and nodded. “I think I’m nervous,” she admitted. 

“Me too,” he said. 

“Why are you nervous? You’ve done this dating thing way more than I have. I’ve been with one man for ten years.”

“Because…” He sighed. “Because it’s you. Because you’re special to me. Because I want to make you smile and laugh and I want…I want you to look back on this night fondly.”

“Oh Jon,” she said softly and let go of his hand to cradle the side of his face. He was right. No one could see them like this, not in the fading light of the day. And besides – who would be watching? “You’ve already done so much for me and the kids. No matter what I won’t just look back on tonight fondly, I’ll look back on you fondly.”

He leaned into her touch and let out a shaky sigh. “You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now, sweet girl.”

She smiled. “Then I suppose we should go then. Those ribs aren’t going to eat themselves.”

He groaned in faux frustration and she laughed as he opened the car door for her and stepped aside. “Mi’lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir,” she said and got in. 

When the door closed, Sansa buckled in and watched him run around the driver’s side. He climbed in, buckled up, and looked at her. “Ready?” he asked. 

She nodded definitively. “Ready.”


	26. Chapter 26

The Depot Street Diner was like any other diner in America – chrome, colored in varying shades of red and white, had stools at the counter, and the tables against the windows had coffee stains on their speckled blue tops. It smelled like coffee and fried food, and Sansa thought at any minute the cast of _Alice_ was going to come charging out of the kitchen. 

After they’d ordered their dinner and drinks from a waitress who chewed gum like a cow, Sansa sat back and smiled at Jon. Jon smiled back. “What are you thinking?” he asked. 

“Nothing. What do we talk about now?”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Anything but the kids. I mean, I love my kids, but you don’t really go over school projects and bedtime routines on a date do you?”

Jon laughed softly. “No, not usually.”

“So, if Jon Snow was on a date—”

“I am on a date, Sansa.”

“Ha! You’re right. You are. Okay, so, Jon Snow is on a date. What does he talk about?”

“He asks questions. He gets to know the woman he’s on a date with.”

Sansa nodded. “Okay, so what do you want to know that you don’t already know?”

“Tell me more about growing up Stark.”

So, Sansa launched into what it was like growing up (loud, boisterous, invasions of privacy everywhere), and the different family dynamics (she and Arya butted heads, always had, but she hoped one day they’d eventually work it out, she was closest to Robb, but she absolutely doted on Rickon and Bran. Her father had been her hero, and her mother was at times overbearing, but she was always a great help to her.)

Their food came then, and Sansa attempted to daintily cut away the meat the bones on her ribs so as to not make a mess. Jon on the other hand, tore into them with gusto and laughed at her attempts to not make a mess while he had barbecue sauce smeared across his cheek. Sansa grabbed a wet nap and leaned over to clean it off, giggling, and Jon watched her with laughter and adoration in his eyes. When she was finished, he grabbed her arm and kissed the inside of her wrist. 

Slightly panicked by that gesture, Sansa darted a glance around them. 

“No one we know is here, Sansa,” Jon said softly. She could tell he was slightly hurt by her reaction and she felt bad. 

Settling back in her seat, she looked at him apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand. You’re not ready to field questions about us yet. You’re not even sure there is an us.”

She caught a bit of bitterness in his last comment, but she opted for now to let it go. It needled at her though, to think that her… _hesitation_ Jon had not only been felt and noticed, but that it hurt him. At the same time, she thought that he of all people should understand where she was coming from and that not too long ago he had been in the same boat of guilt and uncertainty as she was. It was the whole reason Margaery had happened, no? 

“So, tell me about you,” she said, “tell me about your last relationship.”

“Why do you want to know about that?” he asked with a frown. 

She shrugged. “Isn’t it common to talk about past relationships when you’re dating someone? You already know mine, but I don’t know much about yours. All I know is what Pod would tell me, and that wasn’t a lot. I got the impression he worried about you when it came to dating.”

Jon laughed softly. “Yeah, you could say that. See, Pod wasn’t the only hopeless romantic. I am too, but whereas he obviously had no problem finding the woman he wanted to settle down with, I have not been so lucky.”

“Why do you think that is?”

He sighed, munching on some coleslaw thoughtfully. He swallowed and looked at her. “As clichéd as it sounds, I never found the one. I dated around, hoping that this one or that one would have what I wanted and need – what I was looking for in a mate, ya know? – but there was always something that held me back from….from falling for them. And because I’m kind of shit at ending things, it would take me forever to end things. I think I had too much hope going into the relationship that they were the one. I wanted it….that connection. I have always been in love with the idea of love, but it always remained just out of my grasp.”

Sansa blinked at him. “Wow. That’s…well, I can see why you write.”

“All things academic, not anything that meant anything to me on a deeper level.”

“Yes, but from listening to you, it sounds like there is a story inside you just waiting to be told. And you have a journal now, Jon. A journal intended for you to write what you want.”

He smiled. “I do.” He nudged her foot with his under table. “And I have been feeling quite inspired lately.”

Feeling a blush come on, Sansa ducked her head and returned to her meal. 

xxxxxxxx

To continue the date as though they didn’t live in the same house, Jon walked Sansa to the door. He stuffed his hands in his pockets when they reached the door and he looked at her with a bit of a faux shy grin. “So, dinner was fun.”

Sansa smiled. “It was. You liked the ribs?”

“I did.”

She bit her lip and looked toward the door. “Jon, would you maybe want to come inside for a night cap?” She made a face. “Do people still ask that?”

He chuckled. “Well, I don’t think I’ve heard nightcap except for in the movies, but people do still ask if their date wants to come in for coffee.”

“I’ve always wanted to say nightcap I think,” Sansa said with a giggle. “And you don’t really want coffee, do you? It keeps you up at night.”

“You’re not supposed to know that, remember?”

She nodded slowly and then opened the door and stepped inside. “You coming?”

“I am,” he said huskily and stepped in after her. He shut the door and faced her. “So, about that nightcap—”

She didn’t let him finish, because she closed the gap between them instead and kissed him full on the mouth, while winding her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. 

She broke the kiss before he was ready to end it, and when she stepped back, looking mighty proud of herself, Jon was left in a haze of longing and desire. He reached for her and she giggled and scampered off. 

He gave chase, catching her halfway to the living room where they planned to spend more time together. He drew her back into his arms and kissed her, saying in his kiss what he wanted to say with words. 

This time, she was the one left in a daze when they parted. She licked her lips as though savoring it, and ran a hand through his hair at the back while he held her against him. 

“Jon?” she asked softly. 

“Yes?” he murmured, his eyes on her pink lips, swollen from his kisses. 

“Do you think we have a connection? I mean, one that goes beyond Pod?”

He nodded. “I do. Do you think so?”

She nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. Now she traced his bottom lip with the tips of her fingers. He fought the urge to suck one into his mouth. “If you don’t want this anymore, if it gets to be too much or too hard, promise you’ll tell me? I don’t want to be something you have a hard time getting out of.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about that. I have far more to worry about with you getting sick of me, or not wanting this than the other way around.”

She lifted her eyes to his and frowned slightly. “I know that I…I still wrestle with guilt. With moving on. And you’ve felt it.”

He had that look of someone who had just been caught out doing something but didn’t want to admit that they’d been caught. “Sansa,” he began on a sigh. 

“I…feel things for you. A lot of things. Obviously, you know I care about you. And I…I feel…desire.”

“Sansa, there is no timetable to this. We can take things as slowly as you need. I get it, okay? I understand. The last thing I want is for you to feel as though I’m putting pressure on you. The last thing I want to do is scare you away.”

“You’re not. It’s me. I get in my own head too much. I keep being afraid that the more I feel for you the more it means I’m erasing Pod somehow.”

Jon wrapped her up in a hug and kissed her temple. “Sweet girl, Pod will never be erased.” He leaned back to look at her, caressing the side of her face gently. “I don’t want Pod to be erased and I don’t except him to be. You have two children that shows his legacy lives on. You’ll never forget him, San, never.”

Tears shone in her eyes and she nodded. “I know. I guess I’m just asking you to be patient with me.”

“Whatever you need,” he said hoarsely. “Anything at all.”

“Can we just lay down on the couch together? Will you hold me?”

Words failed him as emotion clogged in his throat. He nodded and she led him to the couch. They lay down together, arranging themselves on their sides and Sansa nestled into him. The width of the couch was big enough to accommodate them, especially with Sansa being so slender. Their legs tangled and their bodies pressed together allowed them the luxury of relaxing into the cushion. 

For a while, they just lay there, breathing together, Sansa’s head tucked under Jon’s chin. Then, she lifted her head and brushed a kiss gently across his lips. She smiled shyly at him and he bent his head and kissed her fully, holding his passion back and just tasting her at his leisure. 

It grew of its own accord, a steady climb to the headiness of desire and lust, and Jon’s hand on her waist bit into her flesh to keep his hand still and keep it from wandering. His other hand was tangled with hers between their bodies. 

Sansa ended the kiss and drew her head away, looking up him. Her expression was unreadable, but he could tell she was thinking something. Reconciling something, maybe. What he would give to be able to crawl inside her head and learn her thoughts…

She shifted even further back into the back of the couch and lifted his hand from her hip and placed it over her breast. 

Shock infused him and he stilled, looking down at her in surprise and wonder. “Sansa,” he croaked. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not prepared for.”

“I know that. I’m…living in the moment. And in this moment I want you to touch me.”

“What about when the moment passes? I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t,” she said. 

Jon was practically panting with need. “Can I…?” he slid his hand down to the hem of her sweater and snuck it under the material. He looked at her in question and she nodded. 

He bent his head and kissed her hungrily as he slid his hand up her sweater and over the lace covered breasts. Feeling a woman up like this typically involved a lot more – namely she would be topless at this point, and they would be on their way to having sex. This sort of reminded him of being in high school again, copping a feel on the girl he was making out with in some dark basement while her parents were upstairs. 

And yet, this felt like such a gift, such a big step, that Jon wasn’t about to squander it. He was going to enjoy the fuck out of this because it was Sansa and she meant more to him than anything on the planet. 

While he slipped his tongue in her mouth, he cupped her breast in his hand and ran his thumb across her nipple. She moaned. He groaned in response and did it again. And again, and again. He felt her nipple hardening to a point against his thumb and he groaned again, tightening his hand around her breast, and yet mindful not to hurt her. 

“Jon,” she gasped. “More please…”

“Can I put my mouth on you, Sansa?” he asked, hoping to God she said yes. He wanted to taste her skin, feel that tight bud of her nipple in his mouth against his tongue.

She nodded and he pushed her sweater up. She giggled when it bunched up around her neck and he gulped when she helped him discard it completely. 

Licking his lips, Jon gazed down at the bra she wore and at the tops of her breasts visible over it. Undoing the hook on the front of it, he felt lightheaded when faced with her bare breasts. They were plump, a handful (and he could say that now), and tipped with the prettiest pink nipples he’d ever seen. 

He might also be biased though. 

His gaze traveled over the expanse of alabaster skin bare to him now. He zeroed in a small freckle at the top of one breast and he put his mouth there. His tongue darted out, tasting her skin and he moaned. She tasted so sweet. He felt Sansa card her fingers through his hair as he pressed kisses along her breast to her nipple. He swirled his tongue around it, blew on it, and then sucked it into his mouth. 

Sansa shifted on the couch, rubbing her thigs together, and while Jon wanted so much to rub between her legs in that moment, he knew better than to actually do so. Instead, he moved his attentions to her other breast and then spread his kisses down between the valleys of her breasts while his hand spread across her stomach and then slid up her side and up to her neck. 

“I – your skin is so soft,” he said. He’d almost told her loved her. 

“Rub them again, Jon, please,” Sansa begged. 

He didn’t deny her. He would never deny her anything. 

He claimed her mouth again as he moved almost on top of her and began to rub her nipples with his thumbs. Meanwhile, she shifted again against him, and rubbed against his leg. He groaned and buried his face in her neck, sucking at her pulse point. “I want you so much, Sansa,” he whispered. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you.”

She tugged on his hair and he drew his head back up to kiss her. She continued to rub against him. His dick was hard, straining, and he rubbed against her too. Then she stilled and gasped and Jon knew she had just come. 

Her breath came out in a shudder against his lips and Jon gathered her up in his arms as he rolled onto his side. He knew, he just knew, that her first orgasm since Pod was going to cause her some distress. The fact that he’d given his best friend’s wife her first orgasm since said best friend died caused a tremor of guilt to run through him. She buried her face into his chest and heaved a tremulous sigh. He waited for the tears. 

He ran his hand up and down her back and pressed his lips to the top of her head, waiting for direction while his mind raced. 

He hadn’t even had sex with Sansa, shit, he hadn’t even gotten undressed, and this had been the most profound sexual experience of his life to date. What the hell would sex with Sansa be like? What would it do to him?

 _She’s going to ruin me, isn’t she?_ he thought with no small amount of fear. _She is going to ruin me for all other women forever._ He felt that in his bones. 

She lifted her head after a time and sure enough, there were tears glistening in her eyes. She didn’t say a word, just kissed him sweetly. “I should go to bed,” she said softly. “Do you mind?”

He shook his head, words once again failing him. Emotion again clogged his throat. He moved off the couch and grabbed her sweater dangling off the arm of the couch as she fixed her bra back into place. He handed her the sweater and she slipped it back on. 

She started to walk away and Jon reached out and grabbed her hand. “Sansa,” he croaked. She turned and looked at him. “Do you regret it?”

Her expression unreadable again, she shook her head, and then hurried off. 

Jon didn’t know if he believed her, but he couldn’t exactly push her to tell him could he? No. Instead, he sat down on the couch, and breathed in the scent of her that still lingered in the air. He sat back with a thud and thought, _I’m fucked._


End file.
